


Saving Hades

by InkSpills



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: #AllOfOlympusGetsPissed, #Assault, #DreadQueen, #HadesGetsHurt, #HadesGetsTiedUp, #MintheGetsObsessed, #ProtectingHerMan, #ProtectiveFamily, #ScarySituation, #Stalker, #angst and smut, #didImentionthesex?, #drugs, #mintplants, #sex, F/M, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 30
Words: 75,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28112262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkSpills/pseuds/InkSpills
Summary: Persephone has seen this possessive, obsessive behavior before. But what will she do if Minthe gets her hands on Hades, whether he likes it or not?
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Comments: 472
Kudos: 498
Collections: Hades and Persephone





	1. Domestic Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> First fanfic! Comment away and enjoy!

Watching Hades sip his coffee, glasses nestled on the bridge of his nose while he skimmed the morning headlines, made Persephone giddy. It felt so domestic.

Then again….

She looked down at the dark zirconium ring on her finger, its black diamond large enough to cast a shadow across her hand. Just when she thought she was getting used to it, it would catch her eye and make her squeal with how it glittered.

Fiancé.

Her mother still didn’t know.

Honestly, no one did. But they would soon.

If only she and Hades managed to break free of the house. She bit her lip as she watched him focus on some article in the newspaper and stood because he looked too delicious. The paper crinkled as she gently shoved it aside and climbed into his lap, straddling him and pushing his robe away from his chest.

He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan, snaking a hand into her hair to pull her closer. He kissed her and it tasted like smoke and black coffee, his tongue demanding as he pushed into her mouth. She relished the chills he gave her as his hands migrated south, undoing the tie on her robe and shoving it back. She heard it rustle as it hit the floor, the cool dining room air exciting and a sharp contrast to the heat coming off his hands. 

Persephone threaded his silky hair between her fingers. It was luxurious and smelled of his expensive cologne. She sucked on his tongue and smiled against his mouth when she felt his penis stiffen against her. She’d known him for half a year, found her way into his bed a couple months ago, and still she wasn’t used to his size, the way he stretched her, possessed her. She rolled her hips against the erection, humming into his mouth when its thickness rubbed her in just the right way.

His breath hitched and rough hands moved her head up, exposing her throat. She clung to his arms as he bit and sucked at her skin, the most sensitive part above her collarbone. The muscles in his arms flexed, strong as they held her right where he wanted her. He bent her back a little, making it easier to bury his face between her breasts. She watched him focus on her left nipple first, a forked tongue lashing out across the dark pink tissue. She rolled her hips against him as he bared his teeth, red eyes full of lust as he caught her raised nipple and pulled, soft at first and then hard, stopping only when she moaned at the pain.

Hades moved to her right breast and thrust against her, his erection lifting between his robe and rubbing skin-against-skin, spreading her slickness along his shaft.

“Gods, you’re wet,” he whispered and gripped her ass, lifting her to lay her out on the table.

She pushed against him, keeping him in his chair by sheer will.

“I’m not done with this position,” she whispered back, rising off his erection, running a finger along one of his white scars that trailed down his chest.

He didn’t need more instruction, reaching between them. He touched her first, rubbing his big fingers along her slit, flicking her clit, his eyes darkening as she reacted to his ministrations. One finger curled inside of her and she rolled her head back, pushing at his arm.

“Now,” she begged, squeezing one of her breasts and thrusting against his hand.

Hades yanked her forward for a heated kiss, his tongue filling her mouth for the briefest moment before he lifted his penis and aligned it with her entrance. She gripped his shoulders, lowering back down into his lap, breaking the kiss to gasp as the head of his erection slipped inside, its velvet skin soaked in her juices. She pressed her forehead to his as she lowered further, his shaft slowly plunging inside of her, thick and pulsing with his heartbeat. It stretched her in length and width, filling her in such a sinful way she grinned, closing her eyes to appreciate this god between her legs.

She finally settled back into his lap, head tilted as she adjusted to his girth, a stiff rod inside her body. His fingers traced her from her throat, along her breasts, waist, to her hips. One hand squeezed her ass, the other flicked her clit.

It was too much.

She gripped his hand, holding him in place, and circled her hips. The movement elicited a moan from those beautiful blue lips, sweat peaking at his temples and dampening that soft hair. Still, he massaged her as she rotated on him, moving her hips from a circular track to an oval, leaning back so he could watch.

His breath hair away from his mouth, those red eyes full of need. He stopped rubbing her to pull her in, catching a nipple in his mouth. She gripped his board shoulders and rubbed backward and forward, chasing her orgasm now. It started below her stomach, warm like a liquid, and then her body convulsed. Hades braced her as she shuddered, tightening around his penis so hard he moaned just as she cried out. Her orgasm ripped through her body once, then twice.

Hades lifted her, lowering her onto the table, not once removing himself from her. 

“Hades,” she moaned, spreading her legs, somewhat aware that she knocked his coffee to the floor. 

He stood between her bent knees and pumped, his thrusts animal but beautiful. His testicles slapped against her ass, eyes hungry as he watched her breasts bounce to each pound.

Then he came. Hades’ eyes fluttered closed, jerking forward a few times as his sperm spilled into her.

She reached out and held his hips in place, rotating around his sensitive penis, making him cry out.

He leaned over her and gave her a messy, breathy kiss as he pulled out. She felt his sperm leak onto the table.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you,” she purred.

He disappeared into the hallway, footsteps echoing to the bathroom. Persephone stretched on the table, feeling satisfied but not ready for them to leave this house. She wasn’t done devouring him.

Even so, she heard her phone calendar ping. She needed to get ready – and fast – if she was going to make it to class on time. With a sigh, she sat up and hopped off the table, dancing a little as sperm trickled down her legs. She snatched up her robe and slung it back on to protect herself from the cold air.

“We need a heater!” she called out.

“We have one,” Hades said, walking back in, nude and glorious. Persephone admired how his muscles moved, from his thighs to his abs. She loved to watch it all, but got distracted by his penis again even if it wasn’t hard. She grumbled when he put his robe back on too.

“Why don’t we use the heater then?” she asked.

“We can. I’ll show you how to turn it on.” He picked his phone up, adjusted his glasses, concentrated on the screen. He waved off her dirty joke before she even put it to words.

Not liking the pucker of his brow, she walked over and looked at what held his attention.

It was a text from Minthe, of all the horrid people.

Persephone couldn’t stop the scoff and sat back down.

“What does she want?” she asked.

He passed her the phone.

“Seems the many times I’ve told her to move on haven’t sunk in,” he said, picking his newspaper back up. It was pretty crumpled. Persephone would have grinned at that, but felt the red taking over her eyes at the thought that Minthe imagined in some fantasy world she could ever have Hades back.

Fantasy world. She saw full blown crimson at that, furious that Minthe might be dreaming about him, fantasizing about his deep, rumbling voice, how his hair curled across his forehead and got in his eyes, how-

“I can have a chat with her,” Persephone said too sweetly.

Hades looked up over his glasses, amused, and shook his head.

“She’s harmless,” he said. “If she doesn’t listen this time, I’ll exile her from the Underworld. That should make the message clear.”

Persephone loved that idea.

Satisfied for a whole different reason now, she looked down at the text: My King, tell me you’re bored of that pink child. Your fascination should have worn off by now. Do you remember how I used to go down-

Persephone couldn’t keep reading it. But just as she was going to hand it back with a flare of disgust, Minthe sent another message, this time an image. It was a full-frontal nude shot. Persephone shrieked and threw the phone across the kitchen. From the sickening crack, it broke.

Oh well.

Hades was watching her with a strange combination of aloofness and curiosity.

“Do I want to know what she sent next?” he asked blandly.

“Nope,” Persephone chirped.

He accepted that and went back to his paper.

Persephone glared at the broken phone, not trusting her fiancé’s stalker. At least, that’s what Minthe seemed to have become. A delusional, obsessed and possessive woman.

Persephone knew Hades wanted to keep them apart simply because he worried what Minthe would do to her, but something told her that his fear was wrongly placed.

Persephone was worried what Minthe would do to him.


	2. A Bad Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments!! Keep commenting and I'll keep posting! Enjoy :)

“You didn’t have to come with me to the office.” Hades deposited his suit jacket on the back of his chair and started rolling up his sleeves. Persephone admired the view as she leaned up against his desk.

“A girl can’t walk her fiancé to work?” she said it overly-bubbly, knowing she was being obvious and he … did he disapprove? She studied his raised brow and smirk.

No, he was amused.

“You wanted to stop my lunch money from being stolen, is that it?” he joked, folding his arms. There was that disapproval, but he was still trying not to laugh.

“Not worried about your lunch money,” she mumbled.

“You have nothing to worry about at all.” He slipped a finger under her chin, lifting her attention to him again. His eyes were soft, everything about him gentle. She smoothed his tie and gripped his belt, pulling him closer.

“Lets see, your stalker has been sending you inappropriate texts for the past month, shown up at our door in an array of outfits that I won’t even describe, broke into your office just last week and waited for you naked,” Persephone ticked off on her fingers.

“I wouldn’t call her a stalker,” Hades said.

“Then what?”

He looked away as if chasing down the right word, like it was just out of reach. His shoulders slumped and he shook his head, white hair falling delightfully out of place along his forehead.

“Stalker,” he conceded. 

Persephone couldn’t look away from the crease she spotted on his brow. He was stressed. His – yes, stalker – was stressing him out and so was talking about it.

“Fine, I’ll let you deal with her again.” Persephone reached up and smoothed the crease away. “But you promise to exile her if she doesn’t listen this time? She’s already been fired and banned from the property. I really don’t know what else we can do. Isn’t there a prison here?”

“I promise she will be exiled.” He caught her hand and kissed her fingers, then slipped one in his mouth with a devilish grin.

Persephone hummed, reaching down to tease his cock through his pants. He pressed his mouth to her neck, kissing up to her ear.

A knock at his office door made him huff in disappointment. The hot breath tingled her ear and she shifted in want, ignoring whoever needed him. She needed him more. Before he could welcome in the intruder, she pulled at his tie and kissed him, spreading her legs to trap him. 

The person knocked again.

Hades gently pried Persephone off him, but didn’t bother moving from between her legs. She hooked her ankles together behind him, loving the firmness of his ass on her calves.

“Just a minute,” he called and started to grind against her, his penis hard. He groaned as he focused on her again. “We need to get back to our lives. You’re already late for class.”

Whoever it was knocked on the door again.

He glared at it.

She pulled his collar down and kissed him, sucking with intent to mark him. If he was going to see Minthe today, she wanted to leave behind a warning sign to the woman that this god was taken.

A sound of pleasure escaped his throat. She reached down to unzip him, scooting farther back on his desk. She pulled his erection from his pants with one hand, then pulled her dress’ neckline deeper until she freed one of her breasts. It popped out and his eyes darkened.

There was another knock, but he ignored it now, mouth crashing against hers as his fingers yanked her thong aside. He groaned when he found how wet she was already, spreading her legs in her eagerness for him to just plunge in. He flicked her clit first and she whined.

Another knock, more insistent now.

He growled and lifted his penis, not taking his time like he had this morning at the dining table. Now he sank into her with a swift, commanding thrust. She gasped, loving the pain of his size, amazed how she wasn’t permanently stretched out by him already. She pushed her hips against him, needing him to be rough.

And he was.

“Hades,” the impatient visitor called through the door, a distinct whine in the all-too-familiar voice.

Minthe.

So much for banning her from the property.

Hades froze, irritation crossing his face. He started to pull out, losing his erection, but Persephone wasn’t having that. She put her hands on either side of his head, focusing his attention on her, and kissed him slowly. She rolled her tongue on his and clenched herself around his penis. She circled her hips, causing friction, and he moaned.

Good. She hoped Minthe heard.

More knocking, but he was in Persephone’s world now. He braced himself on the desk with hands on either side of her, caging her in, and thrust hard. Each movement jarred the desk, making papers rustle and the wood creak.

He held himself inside her and changed the motion of his hips, rubbing up and down, massaging her clit against his body. She shuddered, her orgasm coming hard and sudden. The tightness pushed him over the edge and he collapsed against her, his sperm hot and filling every inch of her.

The door burst open.

Persephone looked over her shoulder with a wicked grin as the red nymph caught sight of her ex still inside his new lover. What a great way to remind this stalker that Hades was no longer hers, but Persephone’s.

Hades didn’t greet Minthe with a smile though. His skin darkened, constellations sparking to life along his scars. He pointed to the door, his other hand yanking Persephone’s neckline back over her breast. He was so protective of her. Persephone could see it in the god-wrath, the way he leaned farther over her as if to shield her from whatever Minthe was about to do.

Persephone loved him so much it hurt.

“Get out,” he roared at Minthe.

The nymph held her ground, tears running across her cheeks. 

“We need to talk,” she insisted.

A shaft of diamond erupted from the office floor, knocking into Minthe with enough force to lift her off the ground and through the doorway. A cluster of gems shot out of the wall behind the door, flinging it closed.

His skin lightened slowly as he pulled his flaccid penis out of Persephone, dripping seed still. He grimaced as he tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up. His eyes widened when they landed on her, sorrowful.

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

Persephone was already shaking her head as she hopped off the desk, pulling the hem of her dress back down. She pressed a hand to his mouth with a smile.

“It’s not your fault she can’t let you go,” Persephone said and kissed him on the cheek. “She broke the ban though. Exile? Prison?”

Hades ran a hand through his hair, looking exhausted. Persephone hated seeing him like this.

“Just let me talk to her,” she said.

“I will not give her the chance to hurt you,” he said, his resolve returning.

“There’s nothing she can do to me-”

“I’m not going to give her the chance,” he said. “I’ll handle this.”

Everything in Persephone screamed for her to stay, to be with him as he confronted Minthe for the millionth time, but she didn’t want to add to his anxiety. If he wanted to protect her, she wouldn't fight it.

For now.

She kissed him and fizzed out of the Underworld, a terrible feeling twisting her stomach as his office disappeared and the towering marble columns of campus solidified. She blinked against the sun, grumbling at it.

She reminded herself that he was the King of the Underworld, he had fought in the war, he had powers beyond her imagination that she still didn’t know about, that she discovered every day. She pictured his god-rage, the beautiful darkness that consumed him, that protected him.

Rationally, Minthe couldn’t touch him if he said no.

Right?


	3. Drugs, Kronos and Desperate Rutting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra long since I didn't post for a couple days. Loving the comments! Please feed this fanfic author with even more!

The professor droned on about the uselessness of mortal sacrifices, something Persephone would have enjoyed except she couldn’t focus. The twisting in her stomach made her want to throw up. She was more than a little worried about Hades and felt borderline insane over it. She tried to come up with all the ways Minthe might hurt him but there was nothing. He was one of the most powerful gods in the pantheon. What could a nymph manage to do?

Even so, she rattled her pen against the desk and bit her thumbnail on her other hand. She had her phone lying face-up next to her still-shut textbook, but it would be pointless to text Hades. She hated that she broke his phone that morning over the shock of Minthe’s disgusting nude photo. She made a mental note to get him a new phone this afternoon.

“Persephone,” the professor shouted.

She jumped.

“Is there something on your mind?” the tall – and mystifyingly wide – water nymph tilted his head at her, blue eyes narrowed with irritation.

Yes, she wanted to say, can nymphs hurt gods?

Instead, she shook her head.

As soon as he started droning on again, she absently began flipping through the textbook for the chapter on sacrifices. A drawing of Hades made her freeze, his beautiful hair flowing around his muscular body, his expression vulnerable as he sat in his father’s stomach. Thinking of Kronos made her see red, her vision deepening to crimson at the thought that Hades could ever be considered a sacrifice. She glanced over the words, scanning the argument the author was trying to make, but all she saw were perpetuated stereotypes of the God of the Dead.

A thorny vine ripped through her desk, slicing the pages, and shot through the ceiling. Stone cracked with a violent snap and people in the classroom gasped.

“Is she going to kill us,” someone hissed. “Gods, she’s going to kill us, isn’t she?”

“Shut up,” someone else said, fearful.

“Persephone,” the professor shouted, eyes bugging out as he stared at the vine twisting and sprouting pollen spores that made people cough.

“My eyes,” a girl cried.

Persephone grabbed her things, shoving them into her messenger bag and snatching her phone. It rang before she could make a call.

“Ares,” she growled. “I was just about to get a hold of you.”

“I had a feeling you needed me,” was the gravely, thrilled reply. “Was that your flash of fury just then?”

“Where do you think you’re going?” the professor shouted as she marched out of the classroom. “Get rid of this thing!”

She slammed the door behind her, the crimson fading from her vision. She felt the vine collapsing in on itself, shredding with her anger. The fear was back again.

“I need your help,” she said and bumped into something very solid and puffing red smoke.

Ares grinned down at her, all of his sharp teeth showing.

“Who are we waging war against?” he purred, red mist seeping from between his lips.

____  
Persephone held up two phone cases and dropped them to see if they bounced or broke. Both bounced. With a sigh, she looked over her shoulder and smirked at Ares as customers steered clear of him like he was something dangerous.

“Have to say, didn’t think you needed the God of War to go phone shopping,” Ares sniped.

“You’re here to tell me how to protect Hades from Minthe,” she said, picking up the phone cases. “What should I be looking out for?”

“I think this is an overreaction,” he said. “She is a nymph. For her, it’s more about ownership.”

“She thinks she owns him?” Persephone felt her eyes roll red.

Ares loved it. He shrugged and looked at his nails.

“Well, gods might be immortal but that doesn’t mean they aren’t vulnerable,” he allowed. “Alcohol, sedatives, drugs, any of those things could make Hades more pliable for Minthe to handle.”

The phone case in her right hand snapped in half, strangled with thorny vines. Persephone couldn’t stand it anymore. She was going back to check on him. The thought of Minthe knocking him out with something and getting her hands on him as he lay at her mercy made Persephone want to be sick. She felt herself grow taller by a few inches. Ares rumbled in approval.

One of the store clerks stood frozen, staring at her.

“I’ll take this.” She handed him the one she hadn’t broken. “Put it on the new phone please.”

________  
His office was empty.

Persephone had fizzed back to the Underworld, back to where she had last seen him, back to where he should have still been. His workday wasn’t over by a long shot. She walked over to his desk. It was neat, as always, but the papers piled in the corner weren’t finished. She saw his perfect handwriting, that he had been working on them, but he had stopped halfway through.

Nothing in the office looked broken or tampered with, so there hadn’t been a fight. Not that Minthe would be able to fight him, of all gods.

Persephone wandered out of his office and came face-to-face with Hecate. She looked just as troubled as Persephone felt.

“Where is he?” Persephone asked.

“He left early,” Hecate said. “I thought you were her, back for round two, and I have to say I’m disappointed she isn’t here.”

“Why… What happened?”

“She was here this morning.”

“I know that, but Hades told me to leave so he could handle it alone.”

Hecate smirked, a fondness in her yellow eyes that Persephone understood. Hecate loved Hades too.

“He’s trying to protect you from her,” Hecate guessed, to which Persephone just nodded. “Well, she isn’t listening to him, and in all honesty I’m afraid she is about to do something very stupid.”

Persephone shivered, glad she wasn’t alone in these fears but sickened by the thought she might be right.

“What makes you think that?”

“You should ask him.”  
________  
Persephone dropped her bag by the front door, which closed behind her with a thud. Cerberus greeted her with tongues lolling and tail wagging. She patted him on the head and called for Hades, following the sound of his favorite podcast chattering from speakers.

She found him in the bathroom near their bedroom, lounged in a tub she had picked out because it was just about the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, aside from him. The porcelain tub had golden feet, golden faucets and was big enough for both of them while still being intimate.

He looked over at her, hair falling across his face. He reached out a hand for her to join him, looking anxious. She kicked off her shoes and told the audio to stop playing the podcast. Once the talking heads silenced, the calming drip of water filled her ears.

She unzipped her dress, letting it drop behind her. Hades’ eyes darkened as he watched her approach him in nothing but her blue and black bra and thong. But instead of joining him, she sat on the side of the tub, brushing a hand through his hair.

“Hecate said you came home early,” she said.

He huffed, laying a hand on her thigh.

“She’s a tattle tale,” he joked.

Persephone thumbed his chin.

“What happened after I left this morning?” she asked.

Hades shook his head. Persephone said nothing, just waited.

“I told Minthe to leave the Underworld,” he finally said. “She didn’t take it well.”

A chill raked through Persephone.

“There was crying, some screaming.” He pointed to his bottom lip, which Persephone now saw had a small bruise. Crimson rolled over her eyes again as she reached out to touch it, willing it to heal. It glowed pink for a moment. When her magic faded, his lip was perfect again. Hades kissed her fingers as a thank you.

“She hit you?” Persephone asked, monotone, too furious to move.

“Rather me than you,” he said. “And it’s not like it’s the first time.”

Persephone breathed in deep at that and tried to stand up, intent on finding the nymph to give her a bruise of her own. Hades caught her wrist, eyes pleading for her to stay.

“What else happened?” she asked.

He shrugged, but then squinted, genuinely confused by something.

“She made her usual insults comparing me to my father, but then said she wished Kronos wasn’t locked away, that he could finish me off once and for all.” Hades shrugged again, but Persephone saw the stress in his shoulders at the very thought.

“She can’t break him out of his prison,” Persephone soothed. “Only Zeus can free him.”

Hades smiled at her, squeezing her thigh, silently asking her to let the topic go.

Persephone did reluctantly, leaning down to kiss him. His lips were gentle, damp from the bath. The hand on her thigh inched higher, thick fingers finding her clit. He rubbed her through the thin fabric of her thong before pushing it aside. Fingers slid inside of her, curling.

She stood, stepping out of his reach. He watched her unclasp her bra, dropping it to the floor. She felt a thrill at he stared, his chest wet, knees visible above the water and spread wide. Aroused by his attention, she pushed her breasts together and ran her hands down her body, pulling her thong off. She stepped out of it and eased into the bathtub with him, leaning forward between his legs instead of relaxing on the other side. She ran her hands over his thighs, feeling his abs and scars along his torso until her fingers broke free of the steaming water. His dark blue nipples were hard as she lightly dragged her nails over them, capturing one in her mouth and pulling on it like he did to hers so often. She felt him relax as she did, his penis growing in length against her hip.

Persephone admired his board shoulders, kissing along the scars. She loved his size, how he would encompass her like a safe harbor, beautiful and peaceful. She licked along his collarbone, grinding her hip against his erection. He responded with a languid thrust of his own, a deep moan building in his throat. She kissed him under his chin, breathing against his skin before sucking on it.

Big hands ran along her sides below the water and he rubbed his length against her, head falling back at the friction. She reached down and stroked him, amazed again at his size. So much blood had collected in his penis that veins roped the muscle, giving it delectable ridges. She rubbed the head of his penis in her palm, then ran her fingertips down to his testicles and massaged them ever so gently. He thrust against her again, hands gripping her ass, squeezing. She went lower to the patch of skin just below his testicles and slowly circled her index finger. His legs jerked at the stimulation and suddenly a hand tangled into her hair, forcing her head up and her lips to his. 

Hades kissed her like his life depended on it. He was insistent but slow, in total control as he licked her tongue and bit her lips. His penis pushed against her stomach, water sloshing over the sides of the tub as he humped. It wasn’t like the wild thrusts when he had her on his desk at the office or the lustful way he fucked her on the dining table. He rubbed against her with delicate, precise movements, his body moving under her hands in a way that she could only think of as graceful.

She wanted him. Her cunt ached to be filled by that dick, which was easily the length of her forearm, so thick she couldn’t close a hand around it. Gods, riding him felt like ecstasy.

Just as she lifted herself up to sit on it and give them both relief, he growled and broke their kiss. The red glint in his hooded eyes told her that he wanted her to obey and she grinned back, letting him turn her around. He opened her legs, her knees on either side of his thighs, the top of her ass just barely sticking up out of the water.

She gasped as he bit her on one wet cheek, a hand slipping between her legs to play with her clit.

“Hades,” she moaned, pushing back against his hand, whining when a thumb went into her vagina. She rode his hand, needing more, the soapy water lapping onto the tile floor quickly now. He slapped her ass with a splash and then pulled on her hair, making her back arch. He rubbed her clit and she jerked forward, an orgasm ripping through her.

He pulled out his thumb, pushed her hips down. The tip of his penis slipped into her as she continued to shudder. Her vagina gripped the head of his penis as she rode out the rest of her orgasm and his deep moan fanned her lust. She shoved herself down on his cock, flipped her hair and looked back at him. His pupils were dilated, white hair hanging in his face, water dripping down his chest. She’d never seen anything so fuckable.

Persephone gripped his calves and humped him, his erection hot and pulsating. She squeezed herself on him, gasping when he reached around to fondle her breasts. His abs flexed against her back as he pulled her up, thrusting into her hard.

She rotated her hips, bracing herself on his knees.

“That feels good,” he growled, bending her over again. She gasped when his fingers slid along her ass, one finger pushing in as he thrust harder into her. Having him in both holes made her mind go blank, rejoicing as he had his way with her.

But then he pulled out, lifting her from the water as he stood in the tub. He turned her around so she faced him and jammed her onto his penis, pulled her off and then back on, all of her weight braced by his arms. His muscles bulged. Being manhandled by him turned her on, loving the view as he bobbed her on and off his dick.

Keeping her on his penis, he stepped out of the tub, shoving her against the wall. The cool stone felt amazing in contrast to his burning skin. She wrapped her legs around his hips, knotted her hands in his wet hair, and kissed him. His tongue demanded dominion, a growl in his throat, his penis beating into her. She freed her lips to gasp, head resting on the wall as he rammed her. She rubbed back against him, using his body to chase another orgasm. They rutted like animals, desperate for release, water dripping off their skin as they panted.

“Hades,” Persephone cried out, nails digging into his scalp as another orgasm took her.

His hair stuck to his skin as he leaned back, humping faster, hands gripping her ass. He slipped another finger in between her cheeks and she arched her back against the wall, loving how his gaze focused on her breasts as they bounced.

Then he came. White eyelashes quivered, his moan echoing around the bathroom.

She clenched around his penis as he ejaculated, biting her lip as she watched him shudder. He set her on her feet, pulling himself free and kissed her softly, then hard. His hand slipped back between her legs, fingers shoving into her.

“Gods.” She was still sensitive and came for a third time under his insistent, expert attention. Her legs trembled and he picked her up, setting her back into the tub.

“I’ll make us coffee,” he said, nibbling her ear.

She watched his ass as he padded out of the bathroom, her body spent and her pussy sore. She looked down at herself under the water, smiling as she watched his sperm leak out of her and swirl among the soap bubbles like a silky mist.

Persephone waited for him to come back, but when he didn’t she pulled herself out of the tub. She’d been in there long enough by that point she had pruned fingertips, which made her giggle. Wrapping her hair and body in black towels, she wandered out to find Hades. With every step she could feel his penis, or at least what she swore was an imprint. It happened whenever they had a hard fucking, or at least lots of sex. In this case today, it was both.

Cordon Bleu was barking her head off near the living room. Persephone ignored her and checked in the kitchen first. It was empty, but the coffee pot was full with a fresh brew. She ignored it, feeling the same fear from earlier when she couldn’t find him.

Persephone followed Cordon Bleu’s furious barking. The small white fluffball whined when she saw her, but then turned back to barking at … the bookcase.

“Really?” Persephone asked her, then spotted Hades stretched on the couch sound asleep. The other dogs lay throughout the room, snoozing too. Cerberus snored, all three of his heads.

Smirking, she knelt next to Hades and stroked hair from his face. He was stretched out, his robe open enough to reveal the scars on his chest. She felt herself getting wet again at the sight of him like this, relaxed, his defenses down. But rather than go in for another round, she kissed him on the cheek.

“We should get you to bed,” she said. “Not that you can sleep with Cordon Bleu losing her mind like this.”

But he didn’t stir.

Her fear returned. She took a quick look around the room to make sure no one else was there, then to the other dogs who were also dead to the world, except Cordon Bleu who kept screaming. Persephone gripped Hades by the shoulders and shook him once, then twice.

“Hades,” she called.

His head lolled to one side.

“Hades!” Her shout was desperate, shaking him hard now, feeling tears spring up.

Her frantic fear must have reached him because his eyes opened. Slowly, but they opened. He looked at her, blurry at first.

“What’s wrong?” He tried to sit up, but his arm gave out from under him.

Persephone fumbled for her phone to call for help, but she was just in a towel. Her phone was in the bathroom. Cordon Bleu just kept barking and it wasn’t helping her clear her head long enough to calm down.

“What happened?” Persephone asked, gripping him by the chin to keep his eyes on her. They kept drifting shut. She watched his throat as he swallowed, creases spreading on his brow as he tried to stay awake.

“I’m just very tired,” he said. “Needed to sit down and must have fallen asleep.”

“I’ve never seen you like this,” she said, thinking of what Ares said about drugging gods to make them vulnerable. Hades laid out on the couch was him at his most vulnerable and she started to see red. If Minthe was here, the nymph would not get close enough to lay a hand on her blue god.

Hades rubbed a hand over his face, frowning at her angry red glare. He managed to sit up, feet on the floor, which seemed to ground him.

“Must be the stress,” he said, cupping her face. “I think I do need to go to sleep now though.”

“I need to know when you got so tired so fast,” Persephone insisted, pushing him back down when he tried to get up. He fell back with hardly any effort, which terrified her.

“Come here.” He pulled her into his lap, arms surrounding her like a protective barrier to everything else. “It’s okay. No need to look for trouble that isn’t there. There is nothing wrong with being a little tired.”

Persephone stared at Cordon Bleu, who sat down to stare back. The dog whined and stomped one tiny foot. Persephone never related to that dog so much in her life. But rather than argue with him, she clung to the front of his robes. He said nothing about the thorny vines that encircled them together, barbed and thick. Then again, he had already fallen back to sleep.

She let him. Like this, no one could get to him without first going through her. So she stayed awake, watching, and made a mental note to rally more help in the morning. Minthe wasn’t gone, hadn’t let anything go, and Persephone didn’t like the feeling that the woman was going to get what she wanted.


	4. This Is War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the love! Please comment more. It is my fuel.

“Persephone.” Hades’ voice was sultry, deep. It felt like smoke and smelled like steel. She buried her face into his warm chest, small curls catching in her lashes. A hand stroked her arm, his fingertips just barely brushing her skin. “My goddess, it’s time to wake up.”

He sounded amused, rested, back to his usual self that was always assertive, cool, painfully attractive. It was a comfort because seeing him weak and vulnerable last night-

She sat up with a jolt, cursing herself for falling asleep. She was going to keep watch. Persephone swung to check him over, meeting his curious eyes, touching the swell of his smirking lips, gripping his shoulders corded with hard muscle.

“Did you have a nightmare?” His smirk slipped away, blue skin deepening, scars sparking white.

She didn’t answer him, but looked around. The two of them were caged in by thorns and vines, a hard cocoon. There were gaps where she spotted the dogs roaming about, though Cordon Bleu and Cerberus sat side-by-side, watching intently.

“Persephone.” Hades’ hand pressed her cheek, making her look at him. His warm breaths brushed at her hair, the dark glint in his eyes concerned, and something about how his jaw clenched reminded her this was a king. He was someone people feared.

She wished Minthe feared him.

“I’m fine,” she said, shifting off his lap to kneel on the floor between his legs, wrapping her arms around his waist. She breathed him in, letting his steady breathing, his body against hers, calm her. He was safe. She had him, so he was safe.

A hand pressed on her head, warm, heavy. He waited in silence for the real answer.

“Please stop telling me you don’t see what Minthe is doing,” she said into his robe.

“Yes, you’re right,” he sighed. “But she is exiled now-”

Persephone leaned up and kissed him, not wanting to argue. She knew how it would go. He wanted to protect her, wanted to handle it on his own, and she wasn’t going to go along with it anymore. Rather than put it to words, she would just stay by his side until Minthe was properly taken care of by her. She didn’t know what she would do, but everything in her body screamed that exiling the nymph wasn’t going to be enough.

Of course, even without saying it, she felt Hades tense beneath her. He pulled back, raising a brow and by his smile she knew he accepted it.

“If you plan on joining me to the office, we will both need to get off the couch.” He gave a pointed nod to the thorny cocoon, but suddenly she liked the idea of having him trapped.

The vines moved, creaking and snapping, but didn’t disappear. Instead, they wrapped around his wrists, pulling them along the back of the couch. He allowed it, eyes glowing red as he maintained eye contact, licking his lips with a forked tongue. The vines tightened as she opened his robe, exposing his heavy erection. He tested the strength of the vines, muscles flexing along his forearms and chest. She ran her hands over his abs, his scars rough on her palms.

He spread his legs further apart as leaned back and dropped the towel she still had wrapped around her body. He hummed, hips jerking forward and muscles straining against his binds. She took in the sight, a slickness forming between her thighs. She ignored it and bent forward, taking him in her hands and licking the underside of his penis. It tasted like him, veins pulsing beneath her lips. The head was her favorite part, it being big and so smooth. She slipped it into her mouth, flicking her tongue across the tiny slit, making him jerk. She heard the vines creak as he fought them again.

And she got to work, tilting her head so her mouth was tighter on him as she spun her tongue around his head. Simultaneously she sucked and squeezed her fingers around the base of his penis, urging blood to the head to make it more sensitive. Her small mouth, mixed with her ministrations, made him groan.

“Gods, Persephone,” he moaned and the vines creaked again.

She glanced up at him, loving how his muscles all pulled tight as he halfheartedly fought his restraints, head tilted back, lost to the pleasure. She ran a hand under his testicles, cupping them in her palm to massage them, using her pinkie to gently circle the skin below. His whole body trembled, hips thrusting, driving his penis deeper into her mouth.

She took him in, opening her mouth wider and pressing down, taking him into her throat. He bottomed out in her mouth with another deep groan and she swirled her tongue along the bottom of his shaft, stretching it to skim the tops of his testicles. She pulled back up, taking a deep breath, and did it again. And again.

His penis was wet with her spit now and she used it to circle her hands around him and pull up and down his shaft. He was so big she couldn’t use just one hand to stimulate him and it made her ache to feel him rip into her, but she stayed where she was, pumping her hands as she spun her tongue over his head. The tip of his penis felt good in her mouth, pre-cum both sweet and salty. She lapped it up, flicking her tongue harder across the head. Each rough flick made him jerk his hips and moan.

She glanced up at him again, turned on to find his glowing gaze drilling into hers, sharp teeth showing as he bit his lip, patches of his skin deepening with the hedonistic passion. His muscles strained even more, bulging across his body. He thrust his hips into her mouth again and she took him deep. When she pulled back up to take a breath, she readjusted how she knelt, inching closer to rub her breasts on his testicles as she licked his head.

The vines cracked, constellations sparking over his skin as he reached both hands to the back of her head, driving her to deep throat him again. She opened her throat, using her hands to pump what she couldn’t take in, and he came. Sperm shot into her mouth, hot and almost savory. She swallowed it quickly, licking what she could off his dick.

He grabbed her, pinning her to the floor with her hands over her head, kissing her as he squeezed her breasts almost painfully. When she tried to tangle her hands in his hair, she found she couldn’t move them. Looking up, she saw a beautiful ring of diamond around her wrists, sprouted up from the wood floor. She whined, trying to rub against him, but he wasn’t laying on her. He knelt between her legs now, hair in his eyes as he stuck out that forked tongue and licked slowly – devilishly slow – over her clit.

She squirmed, needing more.

He lifted her legs over his shoulders, digging in now as he buried his scoundrel face into her pussy. His mouth was hot, all of his tongue licking between the length of her folds, his spit making her dripping wet. His nose rubbed her clit as he went back for more, dipping that sinful tongue into her vagina. It curled, fucking her with its wet and thick muscle, his full lips pushing against her folds. She bucked against that mouth, moaning.

One of his hands reached up to play with her nipples, flicking and rubbing. She lost track of how he manipulated her body, driving her closer and closer. A finger slid into her ass, other fingers into her pussy. Her mind between with the fingering, massaging, licking and gentle biting. She couldn’t help but hump his face until her orgasm hit. It rocked her hard, making her scream his name. 

But he didn’t stop. He licked her hole as she came down, then started in again. His fingers went deeper into her ass, his tongue fucking her pussy, nose rubbing her clit, humming as if she was his dinner and she came faster, harder, again.

“Hades,” she cried, her scream somehow louder.

He was relentless, eating her out until she came a third and fourth time. By then, her body was trembling, her pussy dripping and satisfied. He kissed up her body then smiled down at her, face glistening. He licked her juices off his lips with a grin.

“Have I told you ‘good morning,’ yet?” he asked her.

“Not to me,” came a woman’s voice behind the couch.

His entire body darkened as the god-rage hit, his skin almost black, outlined in blue and white lights. He sat up, hair spinning out around him, but whoever he saw intruding in their house must not have been who they feared.

“Hera,” he grunted, the rage bleeding out of him. His hair settled on his forehead, his skin blue once more.

Hera leaned on the back of the couch, a mimosa in hand and mascara lining her golden cheeks where tears had fallen. She lifted her drink to Persephone, who lay naked under Hades with her hands still bound by diamond.

“Lucky girl,” Hera toasted and then drank.

Hades shed his robe, draping it over Persephone and snapping his fingers. The diamond restraints broke. Persephone quickly put the robe on, tying it shut with a firm jerk. She noticed Hera leaning forward to look at Hades’ dick, eyebrows raised appreciatively, grinning to her drunk self.

Even though it was just Hera, Persephone saw crimson. She grabbed a pillow off the couch, put it over his crotch and then pushed him so he sat down on the cushions. She joined him, placing a hand over his chest as if to hide his body even more from Hera’s envious eyes.

“I’m not here to steal him from you, child,” Hera said, joining them on the couch. She plopped down on Hades’ other side, much to Persephone’s irritation.

Hades stopped Hera from squeezing his bicep, holding her hand out as if it smelled.

“What brings you to our home this early in the morning,” he asked coolly. “And unannounced?”

“Can you remind your brother to go down on me like that?” Hera asked him, taking another sip. “All he seems to want to do is fuck other women. And lately the curator of the Olympus Museum.”

Hades rubbed his eyes and Persephone knew his headache was from annoyance and disappointment with Zeus.

“Why the sudden fascination with a curator?” he asked.

Hera sobered a little then and put a hand on his shoulder, tracing one of his scars. Persephone watched, curious now.

“Do you remember the knife that was made from one of Kronos’ teeth?” Hera asked.

Hades froze.

“What of it?” he asked.

“It’s gone,” she said and Persephone’s stomach dropped. “Someone took it. So you can see why Zeus is involved. It’s the only weapon that can hurt the triarchy. Not kill any of you, but….” She kissed the scar on his shoulder she’d been touching, more tears sliding down her cheeks. “I just hate remembering,” she said against his skin, eyes squeezed tight, “what Kronos did to you. You were so … broken.”

“Hera.” Persephone stood, pulling the woman with her. “Have you eaten anything this morning?”

She shook her head, looking forlorn.

“I’ll make you breakfast.” Persephone led her into the kitchen, looking back at Hades.

“Is that why you’re here?” he asked before they left the room. “Did you come here to warn us?”

Hera turned to stare at him, blue eyes swimming in tears.

“Zeus is trying to deal with it quietly,” she said. “But we don’t know who took it and I don’t want to see you get hurt. Not again. Not by your father.” Hera gripped Persephone’s arm and forced a huge smile. “But congratulations by the way.”

Hades and Persephone blinked at her.

Hera lifted Persephone’s hand with the ring on it.

“You’re getting the best of the brothers, the most moral of the kings,” Hera told her. “Get used to women being jealous. Just don’t let any of those bitches take what’s yours.”  
____  
Persephone spent most of the day with Hades, tucked on a chair in the corner of his office working on a laptop to finish assignments and emailing professors questions about the material. It was quiet, his office busy but the usual kind that buzzed by in an uneventful way. The only unusual thing was Hecate, who seemed to use any and every excuse to check on Hades, passing glances with Persephone that spoke volumes to how tense the God of Magic was. Persephone felt the same, hating this game of waiting for Minthe to make her big move.

If Hades was aware of the tension, which Persephone knew he did, he ignored it.

Persephone’s phone pinged. It was a text from Ares, demanding she meet him for coffee.

She picked at the corner of her phone, glancing at Hades, not wanting to leave. His glasses clung to the tip of his nose, eyes narrowed as he read a document on one of the two curved screens, surrounded by paperwork.

“What is it, love,” he asked, sending her a brief look over his glasses.

Gods, he was aware of everything. Maybe it was foolish of her to think he needed protecting. Then again, seeing him drugged on the couch last night….

She still didn’t know how it happened, and by the careful way he went about his day said he didn’t know either, even if he had yet to admit it even happened. But she noticed how he scrubbed out the coffee pot, cleaned the machine, and threw out all the coffee, deciding to buy some on the way to the office instead. And he didn’t eat anything. She regretted not making him have lunch, but was suspicious of everything as well. 

“Ares wants to meet up,” she said.

Hades faced her now, head tilted. He had to know now that she went to Ares for help over Minthe, but he didn’t show how he felt about it. He kept his face serene.

“Tell my nephew hello,” he said, finally smiling.

Persephone gathered her things slowly, reluctant to leave, but remembered how often Hecate kept checking on him too. It gave her some peace knowing he was being watched by someone who wanted to protect him too.

She slung her messenger back over a shoulder and ran a hand through his hair, kissing him gently.

“Be safe,” he said against her lips.

“You too,” she said.  
____  
Ares was waiting for her at The Posey, a very frilly shop with furniture that was a bit undersized. Seeing a red-puffing God of War seated on a pink stool at a tiny table draped in a lacey tablecloth made her laugh. Even as she giggled while joining him, his angry eyes were unamused.

It wasn’t like him at all.

“Hades might be in real trouble, Persephone,” Ares said and she felt cold. He slid a cappuccino over to her and she put her hands on the porcelain, watched the steam rise off the liquid, but shivered with dread.

“I think he was drugged last night, along with most of the dogs,” she said.

His eyes narrowed, smoke blowing from his nostrils.

“I don’t know how. We were in the house, I was in the house. I don’t know how it happened. He threw out all of our coffee, and I think our food, this morning, so I’m not sure he even knows.” It felt good to admit it to someone, especially someone who wasn’t going to downplay it to ease her worry. She loved Hades for it, but he wasn’t doing anything to keep himself safe and it was making her want to tie him down and keep guard until Minthe was in the pit with Kronos.

“I’d need to look through the house to see how it was done,” Ares said. “But I can tell you that Minthe isn’t doing this alone. The only weapon that can truly harm Hades was taken a week ago from the museum and there is absolutely no way she did that herself.”

“Hera warned us about that this morning.”

“I bet she did. The longer that knife is missing, the less chance Zeus will have of recovering it. They should have destroyed it, not kept it around for this to happen.”

“But how do you know Minthe wants it to use on Hades? I thought you said she thinks she owns him?”

“It can’t kill him, Persephone. But it can hurt him. You’ve seen the scars.”

She imagined the beautiful white lines across his body.

“But Kronos … took bites of him when Zeus saved him from their father,” she said. “A knife can’t-”

“It could,” Ares said. “Trust me. I know my weapons and Minthe could use it to hurt him, threaten him, threaten you to make him comply-”

“Comply with what?” Thorns snaked across the table, tearing the tablecloth.

Ares just held her gaze. She knew the answer. She hated the answer. It made her think of Apollo and how he became obsessed with her, what he did to her….

“Don’t be afraid of the anger,” Ares coaxed. “Minthe and who knows who else is aiming for the king. This is war.”

Ares left shortly after, telling her to keep the house well-ventilated in case there were timed-release gases hidden, which terrified her. She focused that fear into anger, embracing what he said about it being war. She studied the ring on her finger, feeling the weight of a crown she didn’t wear yet. But wasn’t part of the duty of a queen to defend her king? She saw crimson, and this time she let it stay.

She reached into her bag and dug out her phone, texting Hades that she was on her way back. As she was about to put the phone back, she noticed a red envelope sticking out of one of her textbooks. She snatched it, opening it with the black claws sprouting from her fingers.

Glossy photographs fell onto the table.

All of Hades.

Her blood ran cold.

The first was him asleep in bed, close to him, his bare chest open to the night. Someone circled him in red marker.

The next was him in the yard with the dogs, throwing a ball for Cerberus and his pant leg being pulled on by Cordon Bleu. He was circled in red again.

Then him in the house, making dinner.

Then him in the bathroom shaving, taken from around the corner.

Then him in the hallway with Persephone in his arms, his head thrown back with laughter.

He was circled by red marker in all of them, all snuck from either around a corner, from the floor in a doorway, or terrifyingly close while he slept.

On the last photo with him looking back at Persephone as he moved through the library was a word was written in that red marker: “Mine.”

“She’s in the house,” Persephone realized.


	5. Cleaved in Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOVING the comments. You're all so good to me.
> 
> And also - trigger warnings for this chapter. I'll update tags for the story too.

Persephone gathered the photos together, hands shaking. Just as she was about to put them back in the envelope, someone snatched them from her.

Ares grinned at her seething red glare, sharp teeth showing in all of his own angry glory. He raised a brow at the brambles that ensnared the cute little coffee shop, the store owner screaming at her from a window clogged with thickening vines.

“Glad you’re mad. I could feel it shake the street, so thought maybe I should come back.” He looked at a few of the photos, a vein crossing his left temple, the red around his eyes deepening. He frowned like he couldn’t stomach the rest and handed them back, fire licking the ends of his golden hair in display of his absolute rage. “We need to find Hades. Now.”

Persephone shoved the envelope back into her bag, not wanting to think how or when Minthe put them there, and grabbed her phone to check the time. Hades should still be at the office, but he could have always gone home early too.

She tried to call him, standing to relieve anxiety the longer his phone rang.

“I’m busy,” was his terse voicemail greeting, followed immediately by the beep.

She hung up, fell to her knees, and patted the ground three times. And waited.

She looked up, ignoring the curious stares from passersby. But cars kept driving down the road, the hum of people chatting didn’t break, and no King of the Underworld stormed on scene in dark rolling fog.

She wanted to scream, not knowing what this meant. She felt Ares reach for her, but she rose off the ground, drifting upward, feeling like she was going to burst with the panic.

“Check his office,” she ordered Ares. “Meet me at the house.”

\----  
The kitchen blurred and then solidified around her. Persephone shivered, forcing her feet to the ground, breathing deep clear her head. She brushed cactus needles off her arms, feeling the dreadful half of her shake in anticipation.

“Hades?” she called, eyes wide as she kept a look out for Minthe. Every shadow in the corner of her eye made her jerk to face it.

The house was eerie. Quiet.

He wasn’t here.

She checked every room, only to find the dogs asleep throughout the house. Except Cordon Bleu, who had her nose smooshed against the window by the front door.

“How has she not gotten to you yet?” Persephone asked, bending down to pet the white cloud, who growled at whatever she saw outside.

“He isn’t in the office.” Ares’ sudden arrival into the house was accompanied by what sounded like a gunshot, making her jump. Red smoke ghosted behind him as he moved. He trembled in anticipation too, hands fisted like he was ready to kill someone. “Hecate said he left early to make you a nice dinner since you’ve been stressed. She’s on her way, very mad that I didn’t tell her why I needed him so urgently.”

“But he isn’t here.” Persephone stood, feeling tears drip down her cheeks. She touched the trails and her fingers came away red. Blood was weeping out of her eyes. The dread in her grew.

Ares watched Cordon Bleu, who didn’t acknowledge him.

“Did you look outside?” he asked.

Persephone turned to the window the dog growled against and peeked past the curtain. Hades’ car was parked haphazardly in the driveway, the driver’s door open. She could see him inside, but the windows were dark enough that she couldn’t see why he wasn’t moving.

Vines ripped the front door open, cracking the doorframe. She ran outside, thorns tangling in her hair, ripping at her face as she circled the car, eager to have him in her hands again.

But once she got a good look at him, she froze.

He was unconscious, head fallen against the seat, one leg out of the car as if that had been all he could manage. What chilled her though was his shirt that had been ripped open, his pants undone. Lipstick kisses marked his neck and chest, with one set on his lower abs by his hip.

The ground shook.

She stepped forward and touched his face. White lashes spread like webs over his sharp cheeks, motionless. His brow was cinched, like he wasn’t totally unconscious but just unable to move.

“Hades.” Her voice broke.

Eyes squeezed, but didn’t open. His hand lifted, just barely, pointing to something.

She turned, but Ares was faster. He moved to a heap in the grass nearby.

It was Cerberus.

“He’s been gored by a spear, by the looks of this,” he said, then rose. “He’s immortal though. In another hour, he will be awake and very, very angry. But by the blood I’m seeing, he managed to do damage to someone first. That’s a good dog, there.”

The ground trembled again. Persephone took a deep breath, trying to keep from cleaving the Underworld in two. She brushed Hades’ hair from his brow, gentle, afraid he might be hurt too. She took a closer look, but didn’t see any golden ichor, no wounds. At least there was that.

Then again, she couldn’t see all of him from where she crouched.

“Hades, are you hurt?” she asked and felt horrible, because of course he was. Maybe not physically, but the trauma from this wasn’t something he could shake off now.

His brow cinched deeper, but his eyes didn’t open and nothing else about him could move. Not sure if he was injured somewhere or not, she turned to Ares.

“What do we do?” she asked, hating how young she felt. Not a child by any means, but Hades always knew what to do. Without Minthe right in front of her, Persephone felt dizzy, not sure where to funnel her rage.

Ares nudged her aside, surveying Hades with a clenched jaw before slipping his arms under his legs and shoulders, lifting him from the vehicle. Persephone followed, the patch of grass below Cerberus lifting from the ground by its roots, walking after her into the house.

“But do we want to stay here?” Ares asked, stopping in the doorway. He glanced back at her, puffing smoke like a cartoon bull. “Are you certain Minthe is in the house?”

“I’m not certain about anything,” Persephone said. “If she isn’t living in the house, then she knows how to get in and out whenever she pleases.”

Just admitting that stung.

“Well, future queen, shore up your walls before they are breached,” Ares said. “We will fortify tonight to keep this king from that nymph’s muddy hands. I don’t know if we can take him any farther than here, but we’ll find out soon.”

“Find out what soon?”

They turned. Hecate marched across the lawn, winded from flying across the Underworld to get to the bottom of whatever was happening. But once Ares turned with a half-naked, unconscious Hades in his arms, she stopped in her tracks. Persephone watched as Hecate took in the lipstick kisses on his body, how his head hung back off Ares’ shoulder, his throat exposed. 

“Where is she?” Hecate whispered, not taking her eyes off her king. “What did she do to him?”

Panic laid into her and she was moving again, though Ares backed into the house.

“Lets get him comfortable and see what else was done before you start pawing at him,” Ares growled.

“Where is she?” Hecate spoke louder now, swinging to Persephone. “Give her to me.”

“When we find her, she will be mine,” Persephone said and the ground shook again. Windows rattled in their panes and Cordon Bleu whimpered.

Hecate seemed to accept that for now, following them in as Ares marched through the house. Persephone led him to the master bedroom, feeling eyes on her that didn’t belong to those in her current company. She glanced at the walls, the closet, the doors, wondering if Minthe was really there, waiting for another moment alone with Hades, or if Persephone was losing her mind from the paranoia the nymph had created.

When Ares set Hades on the bed, Persephone had never seen him be so gentle. The God of War knelt by his bed like some mortal in prayer, taking his uncle’s hand. After a moment, he growled and stood, on a mission again.

“I’m checking the house,” he announced and disappeared.

“Persephone stared after him, mystified.

“He was speaking with him telepathically,” Hecate explained, arms tightly folded.

“What did Hades say?” Persephone asked.

Hecate didn’t answer. Understanding that Ares would have to share that with them later, or Hades, Persephone turned to check him properly now. There were open-mouth lipstick kisses on his nipples and a faint hickey under his earlobe that hadn’t come from her. It made her sick and furious, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. He needed her.

She retreated to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth with soap and water, then returned. Hecate hadn’t moved, just stood there like some kind of vampire sentry, grinding her teeth so loudly Persephone flinched.

Persephone got to work. She scrubbed Minthe’s kisses off Hades’ body, healed the hickey, and started to cry when she removed the kiss marks from his lower hips. She bit her lip to keep from making a sound, not wanting him to know how upset she was. When she looked at his face though, she caught a tear sliding down his cheek.

The sight broke her heart.

And the Underworld did cleave in two.


	6. Protecting the King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments absolutely make my day!! I love all of them. Please spoil me with more! As a writer, I'm really interested in knowing what aspects of the story work for you, what keeps you coming back for more. And to thank you for the love, here's a longer chapter :)
> 
> Also, another trigger warning. I've also updated the warning for the story. And a reminder that women aren't the only ones who fall victim to abusers. Consent goes both ways.

Persephone lay next to Hades, wrapped around his left arm.

He hadn’t woken up yet.

Or at least, he hadn’t opened his eyes. She knew he could hear what was going on, could feel things, and she hated it. To imagine him going through that made her angry and terrified and she wanted nothing more than to make Minthe suffer for doing this to him and for what? To hurt him? To hurt her?

She wiped away the fresh tears from her cheeks, shoving down images of Apollo. He paid for what he did to her though. And if Persephone had any say, this was all Minthe would do to Hades.

Persephone wasn’t sure what exactly happened, or to what extent, but Hecate believed Cerberus stopped the … encounter … from being worse.

Persephone sat up, smoothing the black sweater she and Ares put on Hades. The clothes Minthe had touched were thrown away. Persephone was just grateful he wasn’t bleeding, that the knife made from Kronos’ tooth hadn’t been used.

Hopefully it never would be.

“Hades, love,” she whispered, hating how much she sounded like she had been crying. She leaned over him, twirling strands of his ivory hair between her fingertips. “I’m going to be right here when you open your eyes. It’s going to be okay.”

Persephone wanted to kiss him, but didn’t want to scare him. He couldn’t look around, couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. She would not do to him what Minthe did.

“Well, it’s a mess.”

Persephone jumped at Hecate’s voice. The God of Magic flashed into the room, yellow eyes glowing with displeasure as she flicked dust off the shoulder of her perfectly tailored suit jacket.

“You split the entire Underworld in half,” Hecate confirmed with a detached grin. “Center Street, made of blue marble – from the road to the sidewalks to the buildings – is now a gorge. I’d prefer if people still called it Center Street since it did split right down the center, but that’s now what they’re calling it. Because….”

“Because why?” Persephone was hesitant to know.

“Pink flowers are growing out of the rock on both sides. All kinds of flowers, and all pink.” Hecate was almost amused. Almost. “They’ve decided they like Pink Cliffs instead. They’ve already made a sign.”

Persephone made a face. She had done so well lately in controlling her powers. Very rarely now would petals just start raining from the air and flowers hadn’t just bloomed in response to her emotions for some time.

Then again, no one had gone after her big blue god before.

“Was anyone hurt?” she asked, not feeling as sorrowful as she probably should.

Hecate noticed and frowned.

“Yes, people were hurt,” Hecate said. “You’re lucky no one died.”

Persephone looked down at Hades, still twirling his hair in her hand. She rubbed a thumb over his brow where a crease had formed.

“I am sorry,” she said to him.

Hecate dropped the scolding mother act and sat in the chair situated by Hades’ bed. She studied Hades, reached out a hand to rest on his arm but stopped. Persephone understood. It was hard to know how what he was comfortable with right now when he was aware but unable to respond to anything. Hecate pulled on her own hair and stood, a knot of anxious energy.

“Has Ares found Minthe yet?” she asked, pacing the room.

“No. He’s still looking through the house. He only stopped once to help me put clean clothes on Hades.”

“Well, I’m going to bring work here then. I’m not leaving his side until this matter is resolved.” Hecate made “resolved” sound a whole lot like “Minthe would boil in a vat of acid,” which Persephone wouldn’t protest.

Ares stormed into the room, carrying a box, Cordon Bleu trotting behind him with her angry teeth out. He upended the box on the end of Hades’ bed, a storm of golden wrath. Persephone reached over and picked up one of the tiny black boxes.

“I was right,” Ares said. “Timed-release fumes. I’d say Minthe’s testing out which one she likes the best because they aren’t all the same.” He dug into the pocket of his jacket and tossed another one to the pile of what had to be a dozen or more. “There was one in the vents in his car.”

“Explains how he ended up like this driving home,” Hecate said.

“And why the dogs were asleep too,” Ares said. “Except this one.” He looked down at Cordon Bleu who had started biting and snarling at his boot. He smiled fondly at the tiny demon. “Whatever concoction Minthe is playing with, she hasn’t found one that knocks this beauty out.”

Persephone tossed the box back in with the others, scooting along the bed to settle in next to Hades again. She placed a hand over his chest protectively, glancing around the room, looking for Minthe hiding just out of sight.

“Have you found out if she’s living in the house?” she asked.

“I’m not done looking. But I’d say Minthe hasn’t made her move yet. These are all tests until she gets the drug with the effect she likes. Those photos she slipped in your bag, it is to scare you. She’s not messing around. This is biological and psychological warfare at this point and we shouldn’t underestimate her next move. This nymph is sharper than we’ve been assuming.”

“So how do we keep him safe?” Persephone asked.

“He can’t be alone,” Ares said. “We need to set up shifts.” He looked between Hecate and Persephone. “We need to tell his brothers.”

“No.” Persephone spoke before she realized it. The two of them stared at her, waiting for an explanation, but she didn’t know what it was, just that she did not want word getting out about this. After a moment Hecate closed her eyes like she knew.

“You don’t want Zeus and Poseidon to punish Minthe.” Hecate glared. “You want that responsibility alone.”

Persephone was always amazed by her and she nodded like she knew this.

“We can use soldiers from the Underworld, but remember we don’t know who is helping Minthe or how many,” Ares said. “Protecting him with just the three of us will be hard.”

“You said he can never be alone,” Persephone reasoned. “And between us, he never will be.”

Ares huffed at her and started shoving the drug containers back into the box he had been carrying them in. By the red growing along his face, he didn’t like Persephone’s decision.

“We can take care of this,” she told him.

“And if you’re wrong?” he asked with an unpleasant grin. “You want revenge so badly that you’re willing to risk everything?”

His words shoved guilt down her throat.

“This is an attack on the triarchy,” Hecate pointed out. “We don’t know where Minthe is. We don’t know who is helping her. We don’t know her next move, and that Kronos knife is missing, the only weapon that can hurt a god and make it very difficult to recover from. Just look at Hades. You want him to have more of those scars?”

Persephone looked at Hades, wishing he could tell her what he wanted. Knowing him though, he’d say no too. He said no whenever anyone tried to protect him.

“No,” Persephone decided, though knew she was being selfish, knew that Hecate was right. Once his brothers found out that Hades had been hurt like this, their wrath would overtake Minthe and Persephone would not be able to get her hands on her.

And Persephone wanted to be the one to make Minthe suffer. 

“At least not yet,” she said. “We will get her before this gets worse. If we don’t have her in the next few days, then we can tell them.”

\----

Ares brought Underworld soldiers to the house. Persephone heard the God of War ordering them not to breathe a word about what was happening to the rest of the kingdom in order to avoid word getting to Zeus and Poseidon. Persephone hoped it was the right decision to deal with this in-house first. She wondered if she could put Minthe in a cage and hang her off the new Pink Cliffs for the rest of eternity, or even keep her awake but paralyzed. Maybe both.

Daydreaming about the possibilities, Persephone walked from room to room focused on her own project. Cerberus walked with her, all three heads growling. She had healed the guardian and he hadn’t left Hades’ side until now.

She looked at him as she wrapped the outside of the house in brambles. Cerberus watched through the window as the thorny bushes grew, shadowing the streetlights. But then he jumped, heads snapping to face the hallway. Persephone looked where he pointed and a moment later heard Hecate shout for her.

She was off the ground, passing Ares who tightened leather straps around his hands to better grip whatever weapon he brought along. She didn’t bother to see what it was.

“What is it?” Persephone asked, feet landing on carpet, catching Hecate as she moved to the door.

“It’s nothing,” came the deep reply.

“He’s awake,” Hecate said.

“Welcome back, you handsome devil,” Ares said, swinging a sword onto his shoulder and relaxing against the doorframe.

Persephone rushed past Hecate and saw Hades sitting up out of bed, setting bare feet on the ground. His hair was ruffled and dark bags under his eyes spoke of his total exhaustion. She wondered if in the past day he had ever slept or just fought against the paralysis.

She sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand over his back.

“I’m fine.” He reached over and squeezed her knee, then tried to stand. His legs gave out and he bounced back to where he sat.

“Take it easy,” Hecate urged. “Whatever drug Minthe used, it’s going to leave you very weak for a few days.”

Hades didn’t try getting up again. Persephone thought at first he was just agreeing with Hecate and not pushing it, but then saw he was breathing heavy from the exertion. Hecate must have noticed it too, because she marched over and pointed for him to lay back down.

“If you don’t rest,” she started to threaten.

He watched her through fallen, messy locks of hair, raising a brow as he tried to catch his breath.

“You’ll do what?” he challenged.

Persephone couldn’t stop a giggle, just relieved he was going to be okay. Hecate folded her arms and glared, but after a moment smiled. It was obvious she felt the same relief.

“Even so, lay back down, Your Highness,” she ordered.

He waved her off and tried to stand again. This time he managed to hold his posture, looking every bit an angry god as he clenched his jaw and took a step forward. His legs failed him though and he folded. Ares caught him, eyes blazing red as he shoved him onto the bed and then held him down with a fist on his chest.

Hades’ looked bewildered by it.

“Push it and you might end up back in that coma,” Ares warned.

Hades grumbled and shoved Ares off him. The God of War didn’t hang around, but rather stomped back out. Persephone climbed onto the bed with Hades and adjusted his pillows so he could sit up comfortably.

“What do you remember?” Hecate asked.

Hades ran a hand through his hair, messing it up further. It didn’t look like he wanted to talk about it, but Hecate wasn’t looking away. Just as Persephone was going to intervene, Hades wrapped an arm around her and drew her close, telling her silently she didn’t need to protect him.

Persephone snorted at that, because he obviously did.

“She wasn’t alone,” he said.

Hecate tilted her head, nostrils flaring, waiting for a name.

“I don’t know who it was,” he said. “But it was the one who harmed Cerberus.” Hades patted the bed for the dog to join them, but the three heads stared at him and then went back to surveying the room. Cerberus was apparently working and not ready to relax. Persephone understood that, realizing how tense her body had become as Hades recalled even this small amount of information.

Hades watched the dog for a moment longer, hesitating on something. Persephone saw him swallow, hard, before looking at her. His expression was open, vulnerable, his eyes wide.

“I couldn’t stop her,” he said, almost whispered.

Persephone squeezed his hand.

“She wanted to take me somewhere, but Cerberus scared them. Still … she … tested me.”

“Tested you how?” Hecate asked.

But Persephone understood. By the way his clothes were ripped, the kisses on his body, her own intuition from being a fertility goddess – she knew.

“She wants your heir,” Persephone realized.

A furious blush crossed Hecate’s face, a hiss escaping her lips as if Minthe had tied to assault her rather than Hades.

“But she knows you’re infertile,” Hecate said.

Hades glanced at Persephone, who suddenly could feel her blood thickening in anguish.

“No, he isn’t,” she said. “Not anymore.”

Hecate stared at her. Just stared, processing.

“I healed him,” Persephone said. “We talked about it.”

“We want a family,” Hades finished for her.

“We need to tell your brothers,” Hecate breathed.

“They don’t need to be involved.” Hades sat up, as if summoning his old strength that terrified most of the gods. “Minthe is a nuisance. Nothing more. My only concern is if she goes after-”

“But she has only tried to get to you,” Persephone said. “She isn’t interested in me.”

Hades held her gaze, chewing on his lip.

“What else happened?” she asked, not liking his hesitation now.

“She is trying to scare you away from me,” he said, but worried his lip again for a moment, chewing on something else. “And if that doesn’t work, it seems she expects me to leave you if she ends up pregnant with my child.”

Shock. And the ground trembled, the dreadful half of her ripping her way to the surface. 

“But that won’t happen,” he whispered to her. “We will find her first and put an end to this.”

“We need to tell the rest of Olympus,” Hecate insisted.

“No,” Hades and Persephone said together.

\----

The house had settled down, soldiers scattered throughout as heavily armed security. Persephone was still nestled against Hades, enjoying his attention. He held her close, studying her face like he would never see it again.

“You know I’m not going anywhere.” She grinned at him. He huffed. “Nothing can scare me away from you. You know that, right?”

He kissed her in response, sweetly at first, then deeper. She didn’t want him to push himself too much, but also couldn’t resist the way he kissed her. His mouth was all-consuming, breath hot and tasted like smoke. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, jerking her head back to lick her neck. She felt his grip loosening, his energy waning, and pressed her forehead against his. He was breathing hard, exerted.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Just let me hold you.”

His eyes smoldered like heated ash, his lips so close to hers.

“I need you,” he breathed.

It was all she needed to hear. She shoved him into the bed, crashing her lips to his. She nipped at his tongue, then grabbed a fistful of his hair and jerked his head back so she could dine on his throat. His grin and the dark way he watched her made her wet. She could see in his eyes how badly he wanted to dominate her, but having him at her mercy was … painfully erotic.

She sat up, straddling him, and pulled her dress over her head. His hands gripped her thighs, pushing her down to gride against her heat. She grabbed his wrists, vines wrapping them together and binding them over his head. Liking how that looked, she urged the vines to circle his neck, not tight but enough to excite him. He tried to break free, but lost the strength. He didn’t look disappointed though, his skin darkening with lust.

By the erection prodding up at her, she already knew how badly he needed inside of her.

But she took her time, enjoying how he squirmed under her tongue. Something close to a growl emitted from between his clenched teeth and she stopped teasing him. She reached inside his sweatpants to pull him out, lining the head of his penis up to her aching hole. The bulging flesh sank in. With just his head inside, she gripped his shaft and rotated in a slow circle, eliciting a beautiful moan. His hips thrust up, eager, and she lowered herself onto him. She squeezed her muscles around his erection, throwing her head back at the sensation of being filled by him. When he bottomed out inside of her, she stayed still, feeling him stretch her with his swollen cock.

She looked at him, loving the view of him stretched out beneath her, bound, ridden, his devilish grin with all those sharp teeth urging her to bounce. She pinched her nipples for him and moved her hips backward and forward, rubbing her clit on his body.

He growled at her and thrust hard, eyes bright red in the dark. He looked villainous tied up beneath her and she loved it. She leaned back and bobbed up and down on his dick, letting him watch himself stretch her.

“Come here,” he commanded.

She tightened around him again, grinding on him, bending forward. She didn’t kiss him yet, but dipped her breasts in his face. He took one in his mouth, a forked tongue rubbing slowly over her nipple. His tongue was wet, hot, and assertive. It made her moan and hump faster. The angle rubbed her clit just right, making her come. And hard.

She kissed him then as he humped up into her. He groaned into her mouth and she leaned back again. For a brief moment, she wondered if Minthe was seeing Hades come undone beneath her, if she could hear his deep, growling moans. Persephone glanced around the room, her back arched, and almost hoped Minthe tried to take a picture of this. Maybe it would make her think twice about trying to take Hades from her.

The thought was fleeting though as she reached around to massage his balls, riding him hard.

He cried out, twisting on the bed as his orgasm emptied himself into her. She circled her hips, drawing his orgasm out and making herself come again.

She lay on his chest, both of them spent. After regaining some of her awareness, she realized how he didn’t struggle at all against his restraints. Realizing how exhausted he was, she broke the vines, freeing him, and climbed off him.

“I love you,” he said, eyes drifting shut already. 

She kissed him, whispered her affections, but he was already asleep.

\----

Persephone didn’t get any rest that night. She had switched to the chair by the bed so he could sleep peacefully and she could move fast if Minthe made an appearance. As she waited for the nymph to try something again, Persephone watched Hades. He was managing to get real rest now, his face relaxed. Except he hadn’t wanted to shed his clothes before bed like normal. She understood that, echoes of what Apollo did making her pull her sweater sleeves over her hands.

Minthe would be strung up for this, maybe drawn and quartered. Mortals had a myriad of ways to torture each other. Persephone could use any or all of them.

Cerberus bit her hand and she jumped, startled that she had started to drift asleep. It wasn’t a hard bite, but enough to wake her up. He stomped a paw, all six eyes glowing white in the darkness of the room.

Persephone straightened and looked around, just as her phone pinged. She stood to wake up, pulling her phone from her pocket. It was a message from an unknown number. She hesitated opening it, but only for a moment.

It was a picture of Hades in bed, wearing the sweatshirt he had on now. A knife was held near his throat. Persephone couldn’t see the knife very clearly since the picture was dark, but she didn’t need to.

The accompanying message read: ‘Tonight is the last night you touch him.’

A chill ran through her, furious she had dozed off but confused why Cerberus hadn’t done anything if there had been an intruder. She looked at the dog, who stared back like nothing was wrong.

Ares was right. They needed to tell Zeus and Poseidon. Her pride wanted her to wait, to take revenge alone, but she couldn’t risk Hades.

If Minthe was trying to get in her head to scare her, it was working. Just not the way Minthe probably wanted.

Persephone was going to call Olympus to war.


	7. Love Note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You readers are the absolute best!! I can't believe all the comments. Please keep spoiling me!!! Sorry I've not updated for a bit. Ended up in the hospital for a while. But on the mend now and back to writing. Updates should be more frequent again. Enjoy!

By the time Hades began waking up, Persephone had already messaged his brothers.

‘Get to the Underworld. Now.’ It’s all she wrote and she sent it from Hades’ phone. She knew it was a strange enough request from Hades that they would listen. He never invited them to his kingdom. He never invited them to do anything. 

Ares still marched the hallway. She could see him peek into the room every now and then, his anger keeping him awake, the red on his face deepening to black, crimson smoke stalking his every move. He had started to rattle the walls, as if one of them hid something from him. She wondered if he was in need of sleep.

She needed sleep, that was certain. But if she needed a reminder of why she couldn’t, she just looked to the photo of that knife at Hades’ throat. It made her stomach roll.

“Love.” Hades’ warm voice brought tears to her eyes. She was strung tight and he always could break through with the softest of shoves. She looked around at him, wiping the tears off her cheeks and pocketing her phone. He was sitting up, hair a mess, watching her with a tilted head.

“Cerberus, why is she crying?” Hades asked the three-headed dog, who stared at him. “What did you do?” Hades asked it like a joke, but his tilted when the dog just kept staring. His attempt to ease the tension failed anyway, because she just kept crying. He opened his arms for her and she crossed the room faster than she wanted to, falling into him where it was safe and familiar. He drew the blankets up over them and kissed the top of her head.

“What did I miss?” he asked.

She dug out her phone and showed him the message. When he didn’t say anything, didn’t even move, she peeked up at him.

He looked haunted, but tossed the phone to the other end of the bed with a sharp frown. Then he sat up and pulled the sweater off, exposing his scars, his carved body. Then he took both of her hands and placed them on his chest, leaning over her, so close his hair tickled her nose.

“See, you’re touching me,” he said with a smirk. “And there’s nothing she can do. Because she isn’t going to do anything to either of us again.”

Persephone nodded, then wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing him hard. She needed that reminder, to feel safe with him again. He kissed her back, his mouth warm, his tongue pressing on hers, pulling away to suck on her lips before diving back in. She adjusted beneath him, letting him take control, relishing the heat from his enormous hands as they pushed up her dress, his hips grinding down.

She held his gaze as he pulled the dress up, raising her arms so it could come off for a second time. He kissed her jaw, cradling her head with both hands like she was made of porcelain, trailing down to her throat. Persephone buried her fingers in his hair, glancing up to see Ares in the doorway grinning like a fiend. He nodded in approval before marching off.

Hades dipped lower, pulling a nipple into his mouth as he pushed her breasts together. He sucked, then swirled that forked tongue around her raised flesh, making her arch her back with a delighted hiss. He moved up her breast to suck her tender pink flesh, raising his gaze to meet hers as he flicked her nipples. His eyes glowed red with want.

She knew he was going to go lower, but she pulled him up to kiss her again, hands yanking his sweatpants down.

“I’m wet,” she whispered. “Please.”

His penis rubbed along her pussy as he moved his hips. She spread her legs wider, rolling up to meet him, needing him to fill her now. He combed her hair away from her face, cupping it again. Nose-to-nose, her looked at her. He held her gaze as he continue rubbing against her, wet noises and their heavy breathing filling the room.

Then he reached down and lined himself with her hole, not breaking away from her gaze. His other hand stroked her ear and he kissed her, a deep, groaning kiss.

He pushed in. The head of his penis filled her as his tongue filled her mouth. She whimpered, needing all of him, squirming for more. Hades hummed and grinned and fucked her slow. She felt every thick inch. His penis spread her, gored her, an agonizingly erotic rod that just kept coming. Her head fell back onto the pillow and he sucked on her neck, pushing deeper.

And then he was all in.

She felt her muscles spasm, trying to close around this new thing, but he was so hard and she was so wet that her clenches just caused friction for them both. She knew she was tight around him, could feel his heart racing against both their chests as he fought to hold still.

Persephone combed her fingers through his hair, getting him to look at her again. He leaned up, a beautiful image of rippling lust. But his glowing eyes were gentle as he pulled out slowly, and pushed back in. The way the muscles in his body worked as he humped her made her melt, wetting her pussy even more. His penis fucked in and out, slow, loud against her juices.

She humped back harder, reached up and pulled him back down. He growled, animalistic almost, and pumped harder, meeting her demands. He kissed her rough, a hand gripping her throat, before pulling up again. He put her feet on his chest, gripping her ass as he thrusted. She loved how he watched her, how big his hand looked as it reached around and smeared her wetness around her clitoris, rubbing it and slowed his thrusts. She writhed under his ministrations, gripping the pillow under her head as he humped in sync with his rubbing.

Her orgasm hit hard, warming her veins, tightening her muscles. She bucked, folding up.

Hades pushed her back down and bent over her, changing his thrusts so her clit rubbed against him. She came again, screaming, holding onto his shoulders for dear life as he humped harder.

He came, sperm spilling into her, sticky and hot. 

“What is it?” Hecate burst in, paperwork raised over head like she could kill someone with it.

Persephone waved at her from around Hades’ shoulder.

“We’ll be right out,” Hades said with a mortified laugh.

Hecate raised a brow, unimpressed.

“At least you’re feeling better,” she said.

“Yes,” Hades began, but Persephone rolled her hips, milking the rest of his sperm out. He jerked forward as it did, voice breaking into a groan. He buried his face in Persephone’s hair and waved Hecate away.

Hecate finally left, mumbling something about ‘screaming for no reason.’ Well, Persephone thought it was for a very good reason.

\----  
Even though he was the god she remembered in bed, didn’t mean the effects of Minthe’s drugs had worn off. Ares had to help Hades put new clothes on. Luckily, Hades had canes handy. Persephone picked out a long black one with a silver handle for him to use.

“This isn’t necessary,” he said as he used the cane to move down the hall. She raised a brow at him, but he nodded to the soldiers who stood at attention.

“Until you find me unconscious in our front yard, you don’t get to fight me on this,” Persephone half joked.

He sighed and patted her hand on his arm, letting it go. Persephone watched one of the soldiers they passed, evaluating his angry frown. She glanced back as they walked away and watched his frown morph into fear.

His people didn’t like to see him like this.

She loved that. For some reason, it made her feel like they shared her desperate need to protect him.

White heather flowers floomed in the soldier’s hair. She stared wide-eyed before turning away. Luckily Cerberus galloped down the hallway then, followed by a yipping Cordon Bleu. Persephone watched the two dash ahead, laughing, until the doorbell rang.

An eerie chill settled on the house.

“Oh, it’s probably someone complaining about the barking,” Hades said, trying to move faster. But the quick few steps winded him and he slumped against the wall.

“Then I’ll tell the Karen to buzz off,” Ares promised, loosening the sword sheathed across his shoulders as he marched passed the hallway.

Persephone squeezed Hades’ arm and moved ahead, peeking through the living room at the front entrance.

Poseidon stood in the doorway holding huge bottles of alcohol.

“Persephone,” he greeted when he saw her. “I’m guessing from the vines that you removed the door to the house. Not sure I get the aesthetic, but I’ll drink to it.”

He popped open one of the bottles and tipped it back. Brown liquid trickled down his chin. Ares was already walking away.

“So, where’s the party?” Poseidon helped himself in, following Ares like the God of War was shepherding guests to the room of iniquity.

“Why don’t you sit down?” She waved Hades’ brother to the couches in the living room.

Ares turned and huffed at Poseidon, some wordless command to stop following him. Poseidon blinked between the two, eyes narrowing as he took in the soldiers.

“Where is-” he began.

Hades emerged from the hallway, leaning heavily on the cane now.

“You told him?” Hades asked Persephone.

“No, brother,” Poseidon said, deadly serious now. “What should she have told me?”

\----  
Persephone helped Hades to the couch, watching Poseidon with new respect. She had never seen the jovial brother sober so quickly. Poseidon didn’t move an inch, just evaluating how Hades struggled through a pair of darkening eyes.

“Is Zeus with you?” she asked, trying to break the tension.

“You told Zeus?” Hades asked, sitting with a huff.

“Zeus is busy trying find the Kronos knife,” Poseidon said and gently placed his liquor bottles on the floor. He moved to join them, never once taking his eyes off Hades, who shifted uncomfortably beneath the attention.

Persephone pulled out Hades’ phone from his jacket. Sure enough, Zeus responded: ‘Make time for me, Hades. Find me in Olympus if it’s so important because right now nothing is a bigger issue to me than that damn knife. For gods sakes, just look at yourself! Do you think I want those scars?’

She seethed. How dare he….

“Is someone going to tell me what is going on?” Poseidon demanded, seated on the coffee table to be near Hades.

Persephone never took Poseidon to be affectionate, but raised her brows when Hades smacked his brothers’ hand off his knee.

“It’s nothing,” he began.

“Hush, you,” Persephone and Poseidon said in tandem, then stared at each other surprised.

She sighed. And she explained. The more she said however, the more this happy-go-lucky king sitting on her coffee table shifted to his god wrath. It was fascinating, really. His skin morphed into a swirl of green and black, his eyes deepening into two glowing orbs. He looked otherworldly, trapped in the tide of an angry sea.

The moment she finished catching him up on Minthe’s escalating behavior, Poseidon gripped her hand. She gasped, not expecting that or the sudden jolt of realty transforming around her. The cool black and grey of their living room spun away to the bright green and salty wind of the mortal realm.

That ocean wind dried her lips, unrelenting as Poseidon stood beside her, the image of a furious god. She turned to where he focused, spotting a more unkempt Poseidon sitting with a younger-looking Zeus.

“We have another brother,” the wilder Poseidon said, words whipping away as soon as he said them, ripped apart by the salty gusts. “Our father kept him isolated, but let me hear … what he did to Hades.”

“What did you hear?” Zeus asked.

“Kronos tortured him. He would eat acid and other things to boil and burn our brother. I just heard him scream. He thought he was alone in there. He couldn’t hear me call for him.”

Persephone’s heart constricted. She didn’t know that Kronos tortured Hades on top of keeping him prisoner. Before she could hear Zeus’ response, the wind roared and the sky darkened. She heard screaming before she saw it was Zeus. Poseidon knelt beside him, tears falling down his green face.

“It burns,” Zeus screamed.

“Can you hear him?” Poseidon asked.

“I can just feel it.” Zeus looked up at him. “I just feel the pain.”

The present Poseidon let go of her hand, dropping her back to the now. She gasped, falling back on the couch.

“When one of us is hurt, I hear them scream,” Poseidon said. “When one of us is hurt, Zeus feels the pain.”

Persephone looked at Hades, needing to know how he suffered in this shared curse.

“Thankfully, we haven’t found out what happens when anyone other than me is harmed,” Hades said softly. “And we won’t find out. Because no one will be harmed again or tormented.” He looked at Poseidon. “The war is over. Our father is imprisoned. Minthe is just … a nuisance.”

“Zeus won’t show up unless he feels pain again,” Poseidon said, ignoring Hades, who dropped his head into his hands out of frustration. “If Minthe has that knife and uses it on one of the two of us, Zeus will appear and act put out for not being involved sooner and blame everyone else for not dragging his sorry ass here.”

Hades snorted at that, agreeing.

“And he is afraid. He wants that knife back.”

Hades straightened his cane, using it to get up.

“Where are you going?” Persephone asked.

“I can’t keep talking about this,” he said. “No one needs to worry. I think we’ve seen the worst of Minthe.”

Persephone waited for him to move, but when he didn’t she realized Poseidon had a hand on his arm.

“I’m headed to the bathroom if you’d like to join me.” Hades was sarcastic, but Poseidon stood, ready to follow.

“Ah, fuck,” Hades muttered, making Persephone giggle.

Poseidon motioned for Persephone to stay seated, tucking a hand under Hades’ arm to help hold him up. She smiled at the bickering that followed them to the bathroom nearby but looked up when it stopped. Poseidon blocked Hades from entering, frozen by something.

“What is it?” she asked, rushing to join them. She peered under Poseidon’s arm and saw written in red lipstick on the mirror: ‘Poseidon can’t help you, you piece of shit’


	8. Getting him in the mood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loving the love, all! Thank you for commenting! It feeds my soul. Please feed me some more!
> 
> And explicit sexual content warning for this chapter (I'll be updating story tags for this too). Not sure how you feel about excessive sex scenes, but it is plot related. If you don't like it, you can skip most of the third scene. All explained in the last scene. And brace for impact everyone. Some questions will be answered after this chapter.

Persephone never thought Poseidon would lose his mind.

But once she read what that nymph wrote on the mirror, somehow while she processed the words, he snapped. Poseidon grabbed Hades and forced him toward the front door. Hades pushed back, but Poseidon had the crazy in him. That was always stronger.

“You’re getting out of here,” Poseidon bellowed, not taking his hands off his brother no matter how Hades squirmed. “It isn’t safe. I always knew,” he pointed at Hades, who froze to stare at him, brow raised, eyes narrowed with confusion. “I always knew that nymph was trouble.”

“Yes, you did,” Hades confirmed.

“And smart.”

“…No-”

“I always said she was smart. Cunning bitch.” Poseidon turned to scream into the house. “Did you hear me, water rat? You’re the piece of shit. You’re. A. Piece. Of. Shit.”

Hades hung his head, hair flipping forward.

“You know, if she wrote that on the mirror while I’ve been here, she has to still be in the house.” Poseidon released Hades and pointed finger guns at him, hair a wild mess of chaos as he nodded. “Minthe-y shit, I’m gonna kill you. Maybe drown you. Drag you to the depths of the deepest trench in existence.” Poseidon slammed a hand on a wall and screamed.

Ares did the same down the hall.

“Let’s find her,” Poseidon shouted and bounced off the walls as he joined Ares, who let out a war cry.

Persephone watched the two run off into the house, a bunch of soldiers with them. She ran a hand up Hades’ arm, more than a little worried.

“I’ll make you crepes,” he said suddenly and now she worried for his sanity too.

“What?” she asked and motioned to the bathroom, to the mirror with Minthe verbally abusing him again.

“They’re your favorite.” He rolled one sleeve up, muscles bunching as he did. She touched the curves and divots they made in his skin, stepping closer.

“We need to do something-”

One of his fingers caught under her chin, tender as he raised her gaze to his.

“Let me spoil you,” he said. “You shouldn’t have to put up with this, but you are. And that’s my fault.”

“You are not to blame for her. You told her ‘no’ how many times? You told her to leave you alone how many times? You are not responsible for this.”

He kissed her on the head, holding her close.

“I love you,” he said into her hair. “Let me do something for you.”

He turned and stumbled. She bent and snatch up the cane Poseidon knocked out of his hands, handing it back to him. Hades smiled, holding her hand as they walked into the kitchen.

\----  
The morning cooking turned into afternoon baking and Persephone could almost forget the red beast that Ares and Poseidon hunted for in the house. Cooking with Hades, laughing, felt easy like it always did. Effortless. They talked wedding venues and dates and it was warm. She watched him now while he stirred cake batter, his shirt lifting along his side as he poured it into a pan. The flash of blue abs made her ach and she shifted on the kitchen stool, clearing her throat. He looked up at her, flour on his cheek, and smiled wide enough to show off his dimples.

“You know, how many soldiers do you think Ares dragged here?” he asked.

She shrugged, biting her lip as his hair fell across his forehead and he shook it back.

“Let’s cater a party. Have them bring their family and friends and get Poseidon drunk.”

“We can’t do that. She could show up.”

“She might already be here, not that it would matter. She never showed up to any party I was at anyway.” He laughed, throwing a kitchen towel over a broad shoulder. It had dog cartoons on it.

“We need to figure out how to keep you safe from her, not do something to try and forget about it.” Persephone stood and brushed the flour off his cheek.

“Well, I was thinking too, if you pack your bags before the party then we can leave afterwards.”

“…Where?”

“I have another place. It’s more of a winter or whatever-season-you-want-to-get-away home. And the best part is I don’t think Minthe ever even knew about it.”

Persephone liked the sound of running away with him and letting Ares and Poseidon hunt Minthe down. In fact, she liked the idea very much.

“What should I wear tonight then, my king?” she asked.  
\----  
Persephone stared at herself in the mirror, her bags behind her and ready to go. Hades was packed too, his black suitcases trim and proper next to her loud pink and green ones. She just wanted to get away, forget the party and Minthe, but he wanted to spoil his soldiers who had spent night and day watching over him.

With a sigh, Persephone smoothed her dress. It hugged her breasts, woven in a luxurious mix of sheer black chiffon and a deep emerald silk. Tugging the hemline a little bit lower, she slipped into her heels and marched out of the room but paused. She went back to the mirror and unclipped her hair, shaking the curls out around her and scooting her boobs higher so more cleavage bulged out. Something tingled on her skin, like a tangible heat. She wanted Hades full attention tonight, not exactly sure why she was feeling so turned on. The house was warm, but it smelled like … spring?

By the sound of Poseidon’s booming laugh, Hades had managed to get him into one of the liquor bottles. She grinned and stepped out of the room to join them. The house hummed with conversation, singing and laughter. She knew almost no one, but that didn’t matter. She spotted her blue king sitting at a table with Poseidon, his cane leaned against his chair. He was relaxed, long limbs spread out, hair perfectly combed. She spotted a woman server pour Champaign into the flute next to him, dipping her chest a little lower than she needed to in a terrible attempt to get his attention. Hades didn’t even look, focused on something his brother was slurring very seriously. Persephone slid into the seat next to him and leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“You look good enough to eat.” She nibbled his ear and he turned to look at her. By the way he suddenly seemed winded, she guessed he liked the outfit.

“You-You-re stunning,” he breathed.

The server was gone before Persephone could give her a warning glare to stay away from her king. Hades placed a warm hand on her knee, gripping it as Poseidon pulled on his shirt like a toddler for his attention again.

Persephone grinned at Ares who sat across from her, his shirt somehow missing already.

“What do you think of this?” she asked, waving a hand around the cacophony.

“Never been to a party hosted by the King of the Underworld,” Ares said. “I like it.”

Persephone laughed, but took another glance around.

“Do you think she will try something?” she asked, leaning forward.

“I don’t see her making a move with this crowd. And he,” he pointed to Poseidon, “hasn’t left his brother’s side since spotting the love note on the mirror. She’ll be fish food if she tries anything tonight.”

Persephone’s anxiety eased another notch as servers brought out food. She found herself enjoying Hades’ laugh as Ares entered a serious conversation with one of the soldiers and she lost her worries to the hum of partying. Hades wasn’t totally preoccupied she realized though. His hand on her knee started inching higher. She looked at him, but his face was turned away, laughing at something Poseidon said. Amused, remembering the heat that put her in this dress, she decided to play his game and spread her legs. His hand moved higher, sliding beneath her skirt along the inside of her thigh.

As she sipped her water, she almost choked as his little finger stroked her clit through her lacey underwear. It felt nice, getting her a little wet as he toyed with her.

“That’s not how I remember it,” Hades interrupted Poseidon, shifting on his chair and moving his palm to her crotch. She leaned back, heart racing, as his middle finger slid over her slit, wetting her folds. It felt amazing, lazy and lustful, not to mention sinful around all these people who could notice if they just paid attention.

She watched the side of his face that she could see as he shook his head in conversation. The corner of his jaw clenched, telling her that his mischief under her dress was getting to him too. But he was in no hurry as he trailed the length of her pussy with his finger. She felt the thin fabric start to soak, clinging to her. He dug his finger in, teasing her hole without penetrating it. His palm rubbed her clit slowly. She glanced around to see if anyone noticed the slight shifting in her skirt. A male nymph refilling Champaign glasses stood nearby, watching with a grin. When she caught him staring though, he hurried off.

The feeling that someone else was watching made her look around again, catching Ares eying her erect nipples like they had something to tell him. Her breathing hitched as Hades slipped a finger around her lingerie, wetting himself in her arousal, touching her folds. She tried to play off that nothing was going on, taking another sip of water, but Ares winked at her and then got up to disappear into the crowd. Hades rubbed her clit with his wet finger, focused on the nub of nerves, drawing her closer to an orgasm. She felt the familiar warmth in her fingers and toes but then he moved away from the small ball of flesh. He slipped his digit inside of her, fingering her under the table. It made her feel close to him, that even surrounded by these people, he couldn’t keep his hands off her.

She shifted, needing more friction. Sweat peaked at her hairline and along her neck, so turned on she ached for him to properly fuck her. Then he curled his finger, touching that spot inside of her that drove her crazy.

Hades slipped another finger in and started pushing in and out. She looked around again, afraid now someone might hear the slosh of her juices. One soldier a couple chairs away watched her fidget in her chair, a grin at seeing her hot and bothered, and she wondered if he could hear what his king was doing to her. Hades pushed a third finger in and the thickness was intoxicating.

Just as she started to come up with ways to drag him to their bed, something grew from his fingers inside of her. It was hard, growing in length and thickening. She gasped as it filled her and he drew his fingers out, but whatever he conjured stayed inside. It was some rod, almost as big as his penis. He rubbed her clit one last time before drawing his hand out from under her skirt, wiping off on the napkin in front of him. She glanced sideways at the soldier who had been smiling at her and he turned away, a blush spread along his blue and yellow flesh.

Hades leaned into her, his breath hot against her ear.

“Do you like it?” he asked. “I believe that’s diamond inside of you.”

She opened her mouth to tell him to just have sex with her down the hall and take his toy out, when it started to gently vibrate. She watched him put his hand on the table in front of her, circling his index finger. The diamond toy vibrated faster as he circled one way, then lessened when he circled another.

“Are you trying to drive me crazy?” she asked. “This won’t make me come. It isn’t touching-”

“But I’m not done,” he said and turned away.

She watched his scoundrel smirk and tried to sit still. He circled his finger on the table, looking so innocent, and his toy rumbled in her. He stopped his finger and slid it up and down on the wood. The toy fucked her gently, sliding up and down, but not out. She groaned, crossing her legs, enjoying how the rod moved to the motion of his finger that wasn’t even touching her.

“Persephone.” Ares sat next to her, frowning like didn’t like something.

She smiled at him, mortified. Meanwhile, Hades kept his diamond toy bobbing up and down inside of her. It almost felt like she was sitting in his lap being tenderly humped, all while trying to pretend that nothing lewd was going on at all.

Except … that’s exactly what was happening. She just was unlucky enough not to be in his lap and around his penis.

Ares gripped her shoulder to get her attention.

“Hmmm?” she asked.

“Do you smell that?” he asked, nostrils flaring.

She blushed. And still Hades persisted. She squeezed her legs together, hoping Ares didn’t smell her very wet pussy.

“No,” she said, a little over exaggerated.

He stared at her.

“You don’t have that … tingle? On your skin?” he asked.

She had goosebumps from needing Hades to flip her onto a bed for a heavy fucking.

“No, I don’t feel anything,” she said.

He frowned at her and the diamond toy began to vibrate. Rather than move up and down, it rotated, pressing on her walls and making her want to jump into Hades’ lap, crowd be damned.

Ares squinted at her and then left. She watched him go, catching the curious glances from men directed her way. Some were smiling, others just openly gawking at her body. She wondered if they knew what Hades was up to, the only male party in the room who seemed unphased by whatever mood had descended onto the house.

But then it became too much teasing and not enough of him. Agitated and needing some kind of release, she stood, half hoping the toy would fall out of her, but it didn’t. She pushed through the crowd for the kitchen. She passed a few couples making out, which drew her curiosity but not enough to take her mind off the toy thrusting up and down inside of her again. She felt her juices trickle down her legs just as she arrived to the kitchen.

Persephone got the sink and turned on the cold water.

Big hands wrapped her waist, a hard body pressing behind her.

“Are you feeling alright?” Hades’ voice was sultry, delightfully villainous. She tried to turn around, but he held her still. His hands squeezed her breasts, admiring her as he trailed lower and lifted her skirt, exposing her ass. She gasped as his fingers slipped between her cheeks, pushing into her even tighter hole. Another crystal grew from his fingers, much smaller, but thick. It stayed inside of her as he withdrew and pulled her skirt back down. Now she was being fucked by one diamond toy, while plugged with another.

She turned to face him and he pinned her to the sink, pushing one of his muscular thighs between her legs. He rubbed against her groin, grinning.

“Are you feeling better now?” he asked, eyes bright red with clear lust.

She whimpered, actually whimpered, unable to stop herself from rutting against his leg. It felt amazing. He kissed her gently, just as the toy in her vagina fucked harder. She could smell her sex in the air, so close to an orgasm it hurt. His sweet kiss broke her and she shuddered, squirting on his pant leg. The toy inside of her stilled, but only for a moment until it started twisting and vibrating.

She needed to get away from the party, needed him to fuck her properly. She pushed through the crowd, smelling sex, feeling like she was in some kind of heat. She didn’t know where she was going, not thinking straight, but there were stairs. Some men reached for her, but then Hades was there. He walked her up to another flight of stairs and sat her down. The toys inside of her disappeared with a snap of his fingers. She fell back in relief, but then he was between her legs, pushing her skirt up and soaked panties aside.

His hot mouth on her pussy made her moan. He licked her juices, his forked tongue plunging inside of her where he curled it. He lapped at her like a dog, nose rubbing her clit. Seeing his face glisten between her thighs, there in the middle of the staircase where anyone could find them, made her moan. It didn’t take long before she was taken by another orgasm.

As she came back to her senses, she found she still needed him to pound her mindless. Every inch of her tingled, begging for him to rip into her. By the red in his eyes, the way he licked her dripping arousal from his lips as he watched her, he felt the same. Something was in the air, Ares was right. She knew it, knew it as they stumbled past couples lost to their own world, but all she saw was him. She could see his penis pressing uncomfortably against his trousers and reached out to unbuckle his belt as they looked for an unoccupied part of the house. She got lost in his kissing, his lips leaving burning trails on her jaw, her neck, searing on her mouth. Suddenly she felt the spines of books on her back, opening her eyes long enough to register they were in a dark corner of the library that was quiet enough to shed their clothes. She pushed him down, his pants only half off, and straddled him. 

She impaled herself on his penis, soaked enough that he slid in fast and hard. The sudden sensation made him grunt, but then she humped up and down. He palmed her breasts through her dress as they bounced. She held his hands there and changed her movement, rubbing herself on him until she came. As she screamed, her spasming muscles clenched tight around him and he came too, spilling sperm into her with a gravely moan.

Persephone didn’t get up. The deep glow of his eyes fanned her lust and she felt the need to have him again. She reached down and massaged his testicles, letting her fertility power pass into him and quicken the recovery process. His testicles weighed in her hand, full again. It must have felt good because his head tipped back and he moaned even louder than before. His penis, which had started to go flaccid, stiffened inside of her.

She arched her back and bounced on him again, giving him a show of her breasts as they moved with her. His fingers worshipped her body, tracing her curves, squeezing her breasts and back down. He rubbed her clit and then yanked her forward. He thrust up and buried his face in her chest, pulling her neckline down to expose one breast. He flicked the nipple with his forked tongue. She rubbed on him, chasing an orgasm, jerking forward as it jolted through her.

His hands were on her then, ripping the dress from her body until she was fully naked. He deposited her on a table, flipping her over. She raised her ass to him, and his penis plunged into her pussy. He fucked hard, the wood creaking under them with each pound. He reached around and rubbed her sore clit until she came again, nails scratching the table. He gripped both of her breasts from behind and thrust with more command until he spilled his seed again.

She sank to the floor, gasping. He fell next to her, hair a mess, trousers lost somewhere in the dark, his shirt half open. He looked well and thoroughly fucked.

And yet.

They stared at each other. Persephone felt the heat burning in her groin again, but he was standing now, pulling her up. She realized another couple had entered the library and she followed Hades to another staircase, half-amazed how large the mansion was even though she lived here now. She still didn’t know all of the nooks and crannies. She pulled the rest of his clothes off as they moved higher, kissing between steps until she couldn’t wait any longer. She reached for his testicles, forcing more sperm and he collapsed against the wall with a strangled moan.

She pinned him there with vines and she floated up to latch onto him where he stood. She sank herself onto his straining penis, throwing her head back at the sensation. He humped into her, growling and the vines creaked, then snapped. Wood splintered, pattering around them on the stairs. He slammed her against the wall, rutting up into her, slipping fingers into her ass. She raised her arms above her head, letting him have his way with her. He put one hand on her wrists, keeping her trapped and at his mercy. She could tell he held off his orgasm, veins pulling in his neck. 

She played with her fertility powers, wondering what else she could do besides regenerate his sperm to keep him going round after round. She squeezed her pussy around his cock, rolling her hips into him, and focused on his glowing scowl. She let her powers sink into him, massaging the pleasure centers in his mind, but then the rubbing made her climax again, sore muscles exhausted, breaking her focus.

And then he spilled into her, filling her.

“Again,” she said, not needing to touch him now to speed up his recovery.

He collapsed with a moan. She slipped off him and moved up the steps, falling into the room at the top. He was close behind and circled his arms around her, lowering her to the concrete. He sank between her legs but didn’t shove into her. He kissed her, palming her breasts, and then rubbed her cunt. He tilted her on her side, climbing behind her so he could enter from a new angle. Somehow it stretched her further as his penis pushed into her sperm-soaked pussy. He humped away, hair hanging in his beautiful face. She gripped her breasts and fondled them for him, biting her lip and he groaned. She writhed, reaching for her own clit. She rubbed it only twice before orgasming again, already so stimulated, squeezing so hard around his cock that she was surprised she didn’t hurt him. He came, sperm jetting into her. She was so full of his seed that she looked bloated. The reek of sex was strong. Persephone knew something was wrong when she reached for him again, needing more satisfaction, but could only focus on having him inside of her again.  
\----  
When she woke up, she was lying under a heavy fur blanket.

On a roof.

Persephone sat up and felt her whole body. It ached like she had run a marathon the day before. Her arms hurt, muscles she didn’t know she had hurt, her legs were trembling, and her breasts hurt when the blanket brushed against them. More than anything though, her pussy was sore. The more the sat up, the more she jumped as sperm spilled out.

“Good morning, love.” His voice was warm butter in her ears. She turned and saw him under the same blanket, but far enough away not to touch. He was gorgeous against the starry sky, his white hair caught by the breeze, fluttering around his piercing gaze. He was smiling, handing her a thermos.

“What happened?” she asked, taking it. When she brought the thermos close, it smelled of strong coffee. 

He leaned back on his hands, the blanket falling enough to show bruises on his abs. They looked like imprints of her fingers and … legs? She blushed, remembering more from last night and her insatiable, burning need. Just thinking about it made her soreness turn to an ache for more. She took a sip of the coffee, which brought her back to sanity.

“Well, two things,” he said. “First, your fertility powers are … strong.”

She nodded.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he added. “But I really thought it was possible to die of too much sex for a moment there.”

She laughed and took another sobering sip.

“Second,” he said and paused. “Minthe filled the house with another of her drugs.”

A chill went through Persephone. She held on tight to the mug and waited.

“Ares found more boxes. He said she has moved on to the next part of whatever she is planning and now has something to … you know, if she can’t get me to….” He looked out at the horizon, scowling.

“She has something to force your arousal,” Persephone realized. He didn’t answer, just looked down and fiddled with the blanket. The dread half of her screamed in her head, claws sprouting from her fingers and puncturing the thermos as she pictured Minthe mounting a drugged, helpless, and now mindlessly turned-on Hades.

Coffee spilled but she didn’t care.

“We need to find her,” Persephone said. “I’m not waiting for her anymore.”


	9. 'Your move next'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll. Here's another chapter. Please reward me with comments! Enjoy!
> 
> ...Please don't kill me. I will have the next chapter soon!

The house was a sticky mess.

Persephone hadn’t cleaned herself yet, too stunned by the disaster the partygoers left behind. Hades had hurried off for a scrub, a very hungover Poseidon following along by the shouting that ensued. She was still standing in the foyer when he came out dressed to the nines. A pair of slate-gray slacks hugged his ass, belt drawing her attention to his tapered waist, and black button-down shirt stark against his skin. He was rolling the sleeves up to his elbows, damp hair falling out of place from where he had styled it. Sometimes he was so handsome it hurt to look at him.

“Ug, Pers, tell him to relax a bit,” Poseidon said, big golden sunglasses sitting crooked on his nose. His hair dripped like he had run through the shower or been tossed in after Hades got out. She wondered how that had gone.

Hades rolled his eyes.

“Sweets, my bags are gone.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek, rolling up the other sleeve of his shirt.

She hugged the fur blanket closer, processing what he said and started walking down the hall. Plates and cups littered the wood floors, and other things she didn’t want to study too closely. When she opened their bedroom, his black suitcases were indeed gone. She stared at where they should be, next to hers which were still there, and then walked through the room. It had been locked … hadn’t it? No one had messed up this room, one of the places with an actual bed, perfect for lovemaking. She stood by her pink and green suitcases and stared at those.

Under one of the handles was a folded note.

Already dreading it, she pulled it out and opened it. Not a note. An old-fashioned polaroid of a naked Minthe blowing her a kiss goodbye.

Persephone saw red.

She ripped the photograph to pieces.

“She took your bags,” she shouted. “She drugged everyone in the house, turned the party into a damn orgy, and took your bags!”

Hades tried to calm her with his hands out, as if he could stuff her rising fury down. She turned on him, snarling, and he raised his brows at her. Remembering that he was the last being in all the realms who deserved any of her anger, she swallowed the screeching dread queen down and he wrapped his arms around her.

“We can still go to the vacation house,” he said. “Why don’t you get ready so we can get away from here?”

She stepped away, dropping the blanket so she stood there nude. Hades blinked at her and then pointed at a gaping Poseidon toward the door. When he didn’t move fast enough, Hades gave him a helpful shove, closing the door behind him.

Persephone grabbed one of her suitcases and tossed it on the bed. She unzipped it, throwing clothes around until she found pants and a shirt she felt she could wear while tearing Minthe limb from limb.

“Love,” Hades started. “Don’t unpack everything. We are still getting out of here. Ares will find her.”

Persephone violently buttoned her black cargo pants. When she didn’t say anything, he sighed and started picking up the clothes she chucked around the room, gently folding them and collecting them in his arms. She pulled her tank top down and pointed at him.

“Stop,” she snapped. “I’m not leaving this house until that nymph is dealt with. I’m done with her games. She thinks she can play with us, pretend that I all but don’t exist while she tries to breed with you in some sick attempt to trap you – no!”

Hades took a deep breath and finished folding one of her shirts. He set the pile down neatly.

“If she even threatens to harm you, if she gets a hold of you, I’m afraid of what I would do to keep you safe,” he said. “I need to remove you from this situation. For my sanity, at least.”

“And what do you think happens to me if you get hurt?” she asked him. “Does that not hurt me too? We are in this together. I am not going to hide away while the men ‘deal’ with this.”

She stormed passed him, slamming the door into the wall. Poseidon backed out of her way wisely.

“Ares,” she called. “What do we know?”

The God of War stepped out of another room, joining her march down the hallway.

“I think she’s moving in the walls,” he said. “We just have to find a way in. There are many of the walls that I can’t break into. That has taken real preparation. She may have more help than we first thought.”

“Persephone,” Hades said, following them.

“I already have tools being brought in,” Ares said. “We’ll find a way to break in.”

“Persephone,” Hades said again.

“So long as it’s today,” Persephone told Ares, entering the living room again. “I don’t want this to continue. It’s escalating.”

“Persephone,” Hades said more firmly.

“I am a part of this hunt,” she said, turning to face him. “I’m not leaving.”

Hades studied her, arms folded, jaw clenched. He bit back whatever he was going to say next and instead stomped toward the front entrance which still had no door since she ripped it off its hinges.

“Then I’m going back to the office,” he said, looking at her.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, not wanting to go over why she needed him close so she could keep an eye on him. But he already had his black jacket on and after another moment, faced the doorway.

Minthe stood in front of him.

She lifted a dart gun at him and pulled the trigger.

Persephone ran forward, but then both Minthe and Hades were gone.

“It’s the helm,” she breathed. “She stole the helm of invisibility.”

Ares was shouting orders, calling for soldiers, but Persephone was a step behind Poseidon as they raced outside. Hades appeared again, this time on the lawn, still having enough strength to rip the nymph and helm away.

“Cerberus!” he called.

The guardian of the Underworld bolted through the doorway, circling around Minthe and shifting. The dog was suddenly on two legs, dressed in black from head to toe, and running at Hades. Whoever this god was, they pulled what had been their collar off and it crawled in length. The god cracked the whip on Hades.

Poseidon was faster. He shoved Hades down and caught the whips on his forearm. His scream made Persephone’s dread side roll.

But the faceless god was still moving, yanking back on the whip and toppling Poseidon. With the whip free again, the god cracked it around Hades’ throat.

Persephone watched the lashes wrap around his neck and saw gold ichor. He pulled back against it, holding on to the lashes like he intended to take the weapon as his own, eyes glowing a fearsome red. But another crack and then they were gone.

She was dizzy. It happened too fast.

Soldiers ran from around the sides of the mansion, Ares right behind her. She stumbled forward, hands shaking.

“No,” she breathed. “Nonononono.”

She reached out, trying to feel for the helm draped over the three of them.

“Hades,” she called, trying to ignore how the realm trembled. Her scream ripped through the dirt, ripped through her tears.

But he was gone.


	10. Oh the dread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for comments! They feed the beast. Enjoy!
> 
> Some triggering content at the end. And violence.

The breeze keened between the trees, whistling as leaves rolled off branches in heaps and heaves. The leaves withered, falling from green to brown to dust when they hit the ground. Branches creaked, then snapped as they died, brittle and hollow.

Persephone breathed in the dust that rushed through the Underworld, chips of dead wood cutting her cheek as she stood in the yard. Her wings were splayed, claws out, staring at the patch of grass where she had last seen Hades. He had been on his knees, cat o’nine tails wrapped around his neck, teeth grit as he tried pulling the whip from the hands of that faceless god all while Minthe watched with an enormous grin. Ichor bled from his throat under the whips.

He had been hurt.

The grass wilted under her glare, shrinking to prickly blades that crunched as thorny vines braided across the ground. Having him disappear like that, finally taken by that nymph and her accomplice, made her bones hurt, made her blood ripple with a rage she had never been touched by before.

Not having Hades here, safe, in her hands, made her want to burn everything to their roots to drag him back where he belonged.

Shouting reached her ears, but she wasn’t interested in it. The shouts belonged to someone who didn’t matter.

But then Hecate stomped into her field of vision, firm even as the God of Magic took a quick step back from whatever she saw in Persephone’s face.

“There are quakes through the whole realm,” Hecate said. “That Pink Cliffs fiasco is being repeated over and over. You need to calm down. And stop rotting all the plants.”

Persephone just stared at her.

“No,” was her answer.

Hecate blinked, taken aback for a whole new reason now. Poseidon cried out and the red melted away from Persephone’s vision, the wings folded into her skin and she gasped.

“Set the Dread Queen on Minthe when we catch her,” Hecate said. “And stop destroying your kingdom!”

But Persephone turned to find Hades’ brother, finding him clutching his arm where the whip had hit him. Ichor smeared his green skin, which was shredded. She hurried to him, crouching, confused.

“What was on the whip?” she asked. “It made Hades bleed too.”

“Can you hear him?” Poseidon asked instead of answering.

“…What?” She was terrified now.

“They’re hurting him.” Poseidon rocked forward, trying to cover his ears. “Gods, Hades, stop fighting them!”

Persephone felt her heart swell with pride and break into pieces at the same moment. She wanted him to fight like hell, to make his way home, but to hear he was being injured and for his own brother to plea for him to surrender just so they stop….

Thunder rumbled in the skies and the hair on the back of her neck shivered. She began to look up, but then a white-hot flash seared her vision. Lightning struck the yard with a teeth-crumbling clap. The force of impact knocked Persephone and Poseidon down.

Persephone shoved to her feet, blinking through the colorful dots in her eyes to find Zeus.

Zeus stood before them in his god-wrath, lined in dark clouds and electricity, his eyes burning white. After a moment of breathing in the stink of burning ozone, Persephone noticed that he was clutching his chest, shoulders hunched forward like he was in pain. He seemed to have spotted Poseidon though, still fallen on the dead grass and covering his ears, because Zeus ran to him. He crouched beside him, reaching trembling hands to the deep wounds on Poseidon’s forearm.

“Do you hear him?” Poseidon asked.

Zeus’ eyes dimmed to normal, haunted like he had heard Poseidon ask this question too many times before. He didn’t bother answering, but looked around, chest heaving when he didn’t find who he sought.

“Where is he?” Zeus bellowed. “Where is Hades?”

Persephone glanced around. Ares had smoke coming out of his ears, most of his body red with rage. Soldiers gathered behind him, weapons in hand. Hecate had her fists on her hips, chewing on her bottom lip in concentration. Persephone wasn’t sure she even heard Zeus.

“Where is he?” Zeus demanded again, louder.

But then he cried out, lifted a hand to the side of his head like he had been struck, and collapsed unconscious.  
\----  
Cordon Bleu was very unhappy. Persephone watched the dog snarl and bark at everyone in the room, paws planted to the floor by the bookcase in the living room like her life depended on it. But no one paid her any mind, except for Persephone. She rolled another treat to her, trying to calm her down. It didn’t work, just like the last three attempts didn’t work.

Really, it was focus on the angry floof or start crumbling the kingdom again to see where Hades was being hidden. It didn’t sound like a bad idea at all, actually. The Dread Queen was eager, awake, waiting. Persephone wanted to set her free, but wanted to see what Zeus could do first. If he could do anything.

She glanced at him as groaned and he held his head, waking up from second-hand trauma. Wherever Hades was, he could also be waking up and Persephone was nauseous from the anxiety. Where was he waking up? In what condition was he in? Was he alone?

Tears burst from her eyes, furious ones. Just thinking that Minthe could be touching him this very moment made her claws burst from her fingers and her tears turn to blood.

Zeus sat up with a pained grunt, leaning forward on his knees. Poseidon sat in a chair pulled in from the dining room, his forearm wrapped in bandages. He looked even worse than he had this morning with the hangover. Persephone watched the brothers stare at each other, grim.

“Where is he?” Zeus asked, softly this time.

“We don’t know,” Persephone said.

Zeus finally looked at her, confused.

“How can you not know?” he asked it with a curl to his lip, like he was disgusted with her.

“Don’t be a brat, Zeus,” Poseidon scolded. “None of us know.”

“What happened?” Zeus threw out his hands. “I’m trying to find the damn Kronos knife and here you all are, fucking around, and then Hades disappears? Hades? He’s never just disappeared! And why the fuck is he getting hurt?”

“Fucking around?” Persephone felt the Dread Queen shove forward, growing taller as she stood up from the floor. “I asked you to come to the Underworld before this happened. You said no, told Hades to make time for you.”

“You sent that text?” Zeus stood too, unfettered. “Does he know you’re going through his phone? How do we know you aren’t the reason he ‘disappeared’?”

Vines gripped Zeus around the waist and threw him into the bookcase. Cordon Bleu yelped and scampered off as books fell and the case cracked the wall.

“How dare-!” Zeus conjured a lightning bolt, the ripping sound of electricity cut by Hecate slamming Hades’ cane against the coffee table.

“Enough!” Hecate commanded.

Persephone shrank to her normal size and Zeus put the lightning bolt away, rubbing his fingers once it vanished.

“Sit,” Hecate told Zeus. He did. “Now listen.” And with that, Hecate told him what had been going on. Hearing it in her matter of fact, brutal retelling was hard. Persephone wished she could go back and be more insistent earlier on that Minthe was a problem. She wanted a chance to confront Minthe herself, maybe leave the night of the party when Hades had just packed his bags to leave for the vacation home.

Then she remembered. Before he turned to leave this morning, she had fought with him. He was angry with her.

She wanted to change that too.

“So, let me get this straight.” Zeus’ face was dark in the shadow of his hair, which had fallen forward as he leaned on his knees. His eyes glinted in those shadows, sparking with new fury. “My brother was being stalked. And I wasn’t told. My brother was drugged and assaulted. And no one thought to tell me. My brother was threatened time and again. And no one said a damn word. When would it have seemed like the right time to include me?”

“I tried to,” Persephone said. “I had just been sent a picture with a knife being held to his throat and knew he needed more than me to protect him.”

Zeus glared at her and held out his hand, demanding to see the photo. Persephone glowered, but complied, pulling it up on her phone and handing it to him. He stared, zoomed in, brightened, and a vein cross between his brows.

“I tell you – or who I thought was Hades asking me to come to the Underworld – that I’m looking for this knife,” he stabbed the phone with his index finger.

“I was going to tell you whenever you decided to show up.”

“No, you send the fucking photo to me and tell me to get my ass here now before my brother gets tortured and raped by his crazy ex!”

Persephone winced, tears bursting from her eyes at hearing someone say it. And he wasn’t wrong. She should have sent the photo to both him and Poseidon so they could move swiftly and effectively, and she hated herself for it.

“Do you even know what this means for him?” Zeus held the picture of the knife at Hades’ throat. “Do you understand the fear he has of this knife? Our father ate him, isolated and tormented him for all of his young life, then took bites of him when I tried to pull him out so he could be free. My brother. Mine,” he emphasized his possessiveness of his family by pointing at his chest. “He has had scars to remind him of all of it and there is this weapon that can do it to him again. Now he is with a madwoman and this knife, isolated from everyone else. And if they are drugging him, that fear might mean he might not be able to tell if he’s in Kronos still or not. Is that what you wanted?”

“Stop,” Poseidon said.

“No,” Zeus shot back. “This goddess has been nothing but trouble since Demeter sent her to Olympus. I know she’s fucker her way to Hades’ heart, but-”

“She is his fiancé,” Poseidon said, pointing to the ring on her finger.

Zeus looked with huge eyes. And stared.

Persephone questioned Poseidon with a glance, not sure when he found out or pieced it together. No announcement had been made, but some knew now….

“Hades told me.” Poseidon shrugged. “He’s fucking thrilled. I’ve never seen him so happy.”

Zeus had enough decency to look sorry, though it didn’t last long.

“Hades doesn’t know how to pick them,” Zeus snarled, tossing the phone back to her. “He dated that trash nymph for a decade or more and now look at what she’s doing. How do we know you’ll be any better?”

“And you wonder why he’s never invited you over before,” Persephone said, barely holding back the Dread Queen who thrashed to punish him for ever comparing her to Minthe.

“This isn’t important,” Hecate reminded, tapping Hades’ cane on the coffee table again. “Every minute counts. And I can only think of one place that might help us locate him.”

“In addition to telling all of Olympus,” Zeus said.

“And the Underworld,” Persephone confirmed. “His people love him. They will look for him.”

“Can’t say he’s loved in Olympus,” Zeus said and Persephone seethed. “But who knows, maybe the resulting gossip will be of some help. No one will want the Unseen One being forcibly bred in their neighbor’s basement.”

Persephone saw red at everything he said, but Cordon Bleu scratching at the bookcase distracted her from responding. She watched the floof try digging between the bookcase and the wall and she wondered if a toy rolled behind it.

Hecate stood and motioned for them to join her.

“We’re going to pay a visit to the Fates,” she said.  
\----  
Walking through Tower 1 without Hades hurt. Persephone marched with Hecate as Zeus and Poseidon followed, the two kings drawing stares as they went.

“It’s very dreary here, isn’t it?” Zeus commented, his white suit making him stand out like a sore thumb, not to mention he walked like he owned the place which he very much didn’t.

“And dry,” Poseidon added.

Persephone grit her teeth. She glanced at Hecate, but the God of Magic was focused, shoving doors open to a library Persephone had never visited before. Tall rows of shelves extended into the dark blue space, the only light over a desk near the entrance. A woman flipped through papers there, dressed in a very loud purple tracksuit.

“Lachesis,” Hecate greeted.

One of the Fate sisters looked up, blinked at Persephone, and then frowned deeply when she spotted the kings.

“No,” she said.

“You don’t know why we’re here,” Persephone said.

“No,” Lachesis repeated.

“Hades has been captured,” Hecate said sharply, drawing a gasp from the Fate. “He’s being held prisoner somewhere and we need to see a memory clip from the woman who took him.”

“And why wouldn’t you want it from him?” Lachesis asked.

“Because he could be drugged. We need to know his location of where he is right now.”

“So you want a tape of what’s happening at this very moment and without consent from this woman?” Lachesis was already shaking her head. 

“She isn’t asking for his consent,” Persephone snapped and let the Dread Queen step forward, blood weeping from her eyes.

Lachesis took a step back from her.

“I’m not sure,” she started and the room trembled, shelves rattling. Cracks webbed in the windows near the ceiling.

“Bring them back,” someone called from the shelves behind the desk. Lachesis opened the swinging gate and let them in. Hecate marched toward the voice that beckoned them. When they found the other two Fates, a wall of screens already buzzed, waiting for command.

“What is the woman’s name?” one of the Fates asked, a tablet in hand.

“Minthe,” Persephone said.

After a few moments, the screens came to life, forming one picture. Persephone’s heart beat against her ribs, anxiety making her palms sweat. She dug her nails into the table next to her, needing something to keep her standing.

Hades was in front of her.

He hung by his arms, wrists chained to the ceiling. His feet barely touched the drain beneath him. His shirt was ripped to shreds, all but gone except for the folded down collar and his black tie. Gold ichor glistened on his muscled chest where he had been hit with arrows. The shafts were broken off, but she could see the bladed points were left in his right shoulder, sternum, and stomach. Dried ichor coated his throat where the whip had taken hold of him. But the most worrisome was the matted white hair on the side of his head, a deep gold bleeding from a wound she couldn’t see well.

The image shifted and Persephone jumped, having forgotten who she was seeing this through.

Minthe stepped closer to him and he didn’t react.

“Be careful,” someone warned.

Minthe ignored them.

“He isn’t drugged enough yet,” the same person continued. Persephone knew that voice from somewhere, but she couldn’t place it.

Minthe reached out and ran a hand down his abs, smearing ichor. Persephone growled, the Dread Queen digging claws into the table next to her, wanting to tear her apart for even looking at him.

Minthe ran her hands lower, gripping his belt that still held on his slacks. She pulled to undo the belt-

“My gods, I can’t see this,” Poseidon said and stormed off.

But Hades moved then. He kicked Minthe square in the chest, knocking her to the concrete where she slid until hitting a wall. Someone else in the chamber moved quickly, but then a wall of marble shot up from the ground, blocking them from getting closer. As Minthe gasped, trying to regain breath, she looked up at him. Even chained and weakened, he looked like the god she never deserved. His eyes burned red, his sharp teeth bared.

Someone moved behind him.

“Watch out!” Persephone screamed, but he couldn’t hear her.

The whip cracked and a second later Hades screamed and Zeus dropped to his knees.

“Minthe,” the faceless god tisked, the same one who had spoken earlier. “It’s like hunting. You’ve captured the beast and he will fight back until he is broken. By the time he is ready for you, he will be glad for a gentle touch.”

The whip cracked again and Hades roared. The agony in his voice ripped at Persephone’s ears, the Dread Queen screaming with him.

“Does it feel familiar, Unseen One?” the faceless one asked. “I chipped off bits of the Kronos knife, braided them into the lashes. I think a few have broken off into your back. It’s funny because maybe this is one of your father’s teeth that bit into you. Now it’s biting again.”

The whip cracked and Hades bit back his scream, every muscle pulled tight with the pain.

“Does anyone recognize this place?” Zeus asked, straining against the same pain as he searched the screens for clues.

Minthe was moving again, climbing to her feet. Cracked rock littered the cavern, obvious attempts Hades made to fight back. The ground was also littered with syringes. Persephone covered a sob, wondering how many times they had already tried sedating him or used other drugs to force compliance.

Minthe stepped to a door nearby, hauling it open.

“Get me when he’s tender again,” she called back. “Don’t hurt anything important.”

Laughter followed her into a dim hallway. Tarps draped the wood floors, gray paint still being applied to the walls. It looked like it was under construction. She slipped into another room, this one with a bed scattered in rose petals.

Persephone couldn’t stomach anymore of it. She stepped out, feeling the need to vomit, hands shaking. She found Poseidon sitting in the hallway outside the library and the moment she saw him, a sob slipped out. She walked over and slid down the wall to sit next to him on the cold floor, body folding forward with the force of her crying. Poseidon removed one of the hands pressed on his ears and wrapped an arm around her. 

Nothing about that place looked familiar to her.

But the voice … she knew it from somewhere. She tried to remember who it was, but all she kept hearing was his cries, kept seeing the ichor sticking in his hair and those red hands on his belt.

Minthe was going to die. Persephone knew that much at least.


	11. All alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments give me life! I love all of them! Pllleeeassse more comments - they make this writer so happy!
> 
> And trigger warning for this chapter. Please remember the warning tags for the story!

“King Hades of the Underworld, eldest of the triarchy, has been forcibly taken from his home by a masked god,” rattled off a news reporter. Minthe’s mugshot from when she was arrested for drunk driving and disorderly conduct popped up in the corner of the screen, her smeared eye makeup and frown making her look less than pleased. “This water nymph, by the name of Minthe, is also involved in his capture. This abduction follows months of harassment and threats from the nymph, his ex-girlfriend.”

Another reporter came on the screen, standing outside Hades’ home which was barricaded by Olympian police and Ares’ soldiers.

“Every realm is being combed to find the king,” the reporter said, hair blowing in the wind, dust obscuring the screen for a moment. “It is believed the stolen Kronos knife from the Olympus Museum was involved in his abduction.”

“Well, none of us are fans of the Unseen One, but it is frightening that this can happen to one of the kings,” a woman journalist said, the screen shifting back to the newsroom and into the banter between stories.

“The personal nature of this is obvious, but I think what is on everyone’s minds is the unknown identity of the god helping this nymph,” the first reporter said.

Persephone rubbed her arms and turned away from the TV. She heard Poseidon switch news channels, opting for the Underworld station which was more panicked about the situation and running nonstop coverage. It was all redundant at this point. She had seen each take, each segment, obsessed over how Underworld reporters unpacked Hades’ life in what almost felt like a eulogy tribute. Meanwhile, Olympian news stations critiqued and analyzed every moment of his life like he was somehow guilty of his own abduction. Old photos of her and Hades seen walking together were used, dragging her into the blame game as well.

She couldn’t stomach it.

Feeling hollowed out, and a little like she was floating along. She turned down the hallway, realizing she was looking for Ares. It wasn’t hard to locate him. He was at the center of the drilling and pounding as he tore apart the mansion. She found him in a powdery billow of dust, shirt off and sweaty as he helped his people rip the walls apart.

He stopped when he saw her, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, smearing the dust.

“I was sort of right,” he said and nodded for her to follow him back down the hall to another place he had torn to pieces. He pointed and then sneezed.

Persephone didn’t know what she was looking at for a moment. At first it just looked like a block of diamond had filled the wall, but then she realized there was a staircase locked inside its crystalline stomach.

“What is this?” she asked.

“This place has a basement,” Ares said. “Well, one below the parking garage with his collection of fancy cars.”

She smiled at that, missing Hades terribly at just thinking about that collection he was so proud of having.

“He sealed off access to it though,” Ares said. “But why?”

“I don’t know,” she said, numb, not sure what this meant or why Hades hadn’t told her.

“Ares, you son of a whore!” Zeus all but screamed, stomping over construction equipment to reach him.

“I’ll tell Mom you said that,” Ares snarled with a dark grin.

Zeus blinked at him, his brain catching up with his mouth, then waved it off.

“Stop messing around with whatever you’re doing and find your uncle,” Zeus ordered, shoving his index finger into Ares’ chest. “He is out there somewhere, not hiding in the walls!”

“But Ares found another basement,” Persephone said. “I didn’t know it existed.”

Zeus looked at the staircase next to them sealed off by thick layers of diamond, then looked back at her.

“And you think that the nymph could get through that to drag my brother down to this unknown basement?”

She glared at his possessive use of ‘my brother’ again, like he wasn’t also ‘her fiancé.’

“I don’t think we should rule anything out,” she said.

He waved her off too, but when he saw Ares’ glare he spat in disgust at them both and walked off.

“I’ll find him on my own then,” he shouted back at them. “Out in the realm, probably in some shifty-ass shed.”

Persephone watched him go, glad to be rid of him for a while. She patted Ares on the arm as he fumed.

“Keep going,” she encouraged.  
\----  
The Fates hadn’t turned off the ongoing memory-in-the-making from Minthe’s perspective. Persephone sat in one of the chairs brought in for her and whoever else wanted to keep vigil, looking for clues as to where Hades was being kept. For Persephone, she didn’t know if watching the feed was more painful than being away from it. For now, it was the closest she could get to him even if he didn’t know he had an audience rooting for him.

Right now though, Minthe was just filling another syringe with fluid. Persephone thought it was another dose to try and make Hades docile without sinking him into a coma. The faceless god had asked Minthe to just use a typical ‘date rape’ drug, which Persephone nearly foamed at the mouth over, but Minthe had said no because she wanted “him to remember everything.”

Persephone watched Minthe’s hands work, planning how to torture her in return. She wanted to make it painful.

“Any changes?”

Persephone jumped and looked over her shoulder. Hera clutched her purse to her chest and gave the tiniest of pained smiles, not that it was believable. She hadn’t even bothered putting makeup on, but her eyes were puffy from crying and cheeks blotched with grief. Persephone patted the chair next to her, welcoming her to join.

“Just some new ideas on how to kill the bitch,” Persephone said.

Hera almost laughed, though it came out as a half sob. She settled onto the chair, dropping her purse and hugging her arms to her chest.

“I’ve been here once already,” Hera said. “You weren’t here. Hecate was though. It’s like nothing else exists to that woman. It was like she couldn’t hear me talk to her.”

Persephone glanced at her as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Zeus didn’t bother telling me. I had to find out from the fucking news.” Hera shivered and Persephone wasn’t sure if it was a sad laugh or a strangled cry wheezing past her lips. “Abducted. Him.” Hera looked at her, blue eyes swimming in tears. “He didn’t deserve this. He’s the best of us, you know. He’s gentle and sweet. That nymph always made him feel worthless and when the abuse was too much, he’d just retreat. And I’d comfort him and he’d always defend her. Always.”

“You comforted him?” Persephone asked.

Hera nodded, sniffing.

“He was happy with you. Finally. And now she just had to dig her claws in one more time.”

Persephone watched Minthe walk down the hall, heels a dull thud on the plastic tarps.

“Hera, I know you and him have some kind of history. He hasn’t said much but be honest with me.” Persephone paused. “Are you in love with him?”

Hera stared at her, mouth open. Then she smiled and leaned over to grip her hands.

“Dear, if I had my way at any point in my life, that ring on your finger would have been mine long ago.” The tears spilling from her eyes were never-ending and somehow Persephone wasn’t surprised. She had a feeling, had found herself needlessly territorial of Hades when Hera was around, and so she wasn’t surprised but didn’t like hearing another woman wanted him.

Before she could respond though, the door opened leading into the chamber where Hades was kept. That hollow metal sound chilled Persephone and she jumped, needing to see him, needing to know he was still fighting, still giving them time to find him.

There he was. He looked worn out, still dangling in chains from his wrists, muscles twitching from the agony of hanging there what … twenty-four hours now? Had it been so long? It felt shorter, while also feeling like forever. Gold ichor dripped down his arms, the tight metal cuffs slicing into his skin. Gold ichor was everywhere, really. Persephone’s heart caught in her throat, seeing his slacks stained with it as it bled from the arrows in his chest that were still imbedded in his flesh. She hadn’t seen his back yet where the faceless god had been whipping him and she dreaded it when she did.

He didn’t stir as Minthe drew closer. And he was alone. Persephone couldn’t see the faceless god anywhere. Panic set in.

“Wake up,” she whispered.

Hera squeezed her hands, panicking as well.

Minthe bent to pick up a stool near the wall, dragging it loudly across the ground toward him. His hair was dark with gold blood, sticking to his face that hung down. Minthe placed the stool in front of him and knelt on it, snaking her hands over his shoulders and around his wounded neck. She took a fistful of his hair and jerked his head up. His eyes were closed, though his brow was creased as if even unconscious he felt the agony all over his body. Persephone bit her lip, hating how much ichor curtained his face from the head wound.

“You’re doing this to yourself, you know,” Minthe told him, leaning close. “I don’t know what it is you’re fighting so hard against. You love me. You told me you loved me for years.”

Minthe kissed him.

Persephone had no hope to stop the Dread Queen. She snarled as she watched Minthe suck on his bottom lip, him not even aware or able to stop it.

“Now wake up,” Minthe insisted, apparently bored of his unmoving mouth. When he didn’t respond, she jerked his head back and slapped him.

Persephone was on her feet, chest heaving, claws out.

“Wake up!” Minthe screamed at him, a hand gripping his chin, fingers digging into his cheeks.

His eyes fluttered and blinked.

Minthe kissed him again, harder this time. Hades tried to pull back, confused, and the chains holding him there clinked. Minthe smiled at him.

“Come on, kiss me,” she purred.

He snarled at her. And then spit.

Persephone grinned, glad for every small thing he could do to fight back.

“I said, kiss me!” Minthe screamed, slapping him again.

Persephone spotted the fear on his face as it swung to the side. Everything inside of her burned to protect him, to shield him from old traumas she could see rising to the surface. He seemed to get control of it though, swallowing hard before looking back at Minthe, jaw clenched, teeth sharp.

“No,” he growled.

Minthe twisted the arrowhead lodged in his shoulder. He cried out through clenched teeth, eyes squeezed shut.

“Do you really think Persephone is looking for you?” Minthe asked, twisting the arrowhead again. “Even if she is, she’s going to get tired of you, tired of how worthless you are. And you’ll come to me because no one else wants you. Your own father didn’t want you.”

Persephone stepped closer to the screens, claws out, needing to tear her tongue out for its lies, for how it twisted things. He saw the fear in his eyes again and Minthe must have too because she crushed her lips against his again. He glared, eyes open as he tried to pull away. Minthe glared back, twisting the arrow again.

Then she broke away with a scream, a hand cupping a bleeding lip. Hades grinned, baring his sharp teeth, and spit on the ground again.

Minthe yanked the syringe from her pocket and jammed it into his side, plunging more drugs into him. He shivered and his eyes went blurry. She dropped the syringe and grabbed his face.

“N-n-no,” he breathed.

The stutter must have disgusted Minthe, because she shoved his face away and climbed off the stool, kicking it aside.

“The faster you face reality, the faster you can come down from there,” she told him. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”

Minthe stomped for the exit, looking back once. Persephone wept tears of blood, reaching out to the screens again at seeing him hanging there in that big room all alone.

Persephone turned away as Minthe stepped back into the tarped hallway, not able to take anymore of it. Hera was shaking, but her eyes were wide.

“I know where he is,” she said.


	12. Hurry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because your comments inspire me, here's a chapter a little sooner. It's a bit short, but I'm planning on posting another one tonight. Yay for Friday!
> 
> Oh, and violence warning. Just a little one.

“I mean, it was years ago,” Hera continued, looking up at Persephone who didn’t want a historical account of whatever she was trying to say. Persephone nodded, hands out, urging her to say where she recognized the cavern and hallway.

“There’s another basement under the house,” Hera said.

“Ares found it already,” Persephone said excitedly.

“And am I wrong, was he not there?” Hera asked, paling.

“All Ares found were staircases blocked off in diamond. We can’t get down there.”

“That’s because Hades realized he made a mistake,” she said. “He was trying to expand the house, but then it started to flood. The Lethe River flows underground beneath the house.”

Persephone squinted, trying to remember any other river in the Underworld besides the Styx.

“It’s where souls drink to forget their past lives,” Hera explained. “The fumes coming off the water had a similar effect, though it wasn’t ever permanent. People working on the expansion just started to forget things. I think the worst were when some forgot where they lived, people in their lives. I think one forgot who they were. But it never lasted long.”

Persephone froze at the realization, suddenly comforted by the sick comment Minthe made about wanting Hades to remember. At least there didn’t seem to be a plan to use the Lethe River against him, but just the abandoned basement….

“Hades drained the floodwater out,” Hera said. “Then he sealed it off. But he kept one entrance available in case he ever needed to access the river again, privately.”

“Why would he need to use it?”

Hera shifted and looked down, shaking her head. “… He sometimes wanted to forget. This was long before you met him and he wanted to forget everything so often back then. He just couldn’t totally seal himself away from the temptation.”

Persephone looked at the screens, needing to just hold him. How dare Minthe add to his trauma, to hurt someone who always tried so hard to do the right thing. She couldn’t see Hades anymore though as Minthe straightened a curtain in the bedroom. It draped the entire wall from floor to ceiling.

“The entrance he left open though is not a normal one,” Hera said. “It’s a maze.”

“Do you know where it is?” Persephone asked, sitting next to her, pleading.

“I can’t remember. That’s the thing about that damn basement. It makes you forget the oddest things after you’ve been down there.”

A chill went through Persephone and she had the sudden urge, after saving Hades, to burn the whole house down.

“Ares has been looking for it, thank the gods,” Persephone said, handing Hera her purse. “We need to help him and get down there.”

The now-familiar clank of chains made them both look up at the screens again. Minthe had gone back into the chamber, but Hades wasn’t alone this time. The faceless god had unhooked his chains from the ceiling and they slithered from the holds. Persephone gripped the chair she sat in, wincing as Hades dropped. He folded to the concrete away from Minthe, away from them, and she saw his back. She and Hera gasped.

The lashes across his skin were open and raw, a mess of tangled flesh and ichor. The scars he would get from them would rake his back in white knots, forever reminding him of this. Persephone grabbed her phone and called Ares. She held it to her ear as it rang, watching as the faceless god lifted him by an arm.

A second pair of hands helped the faceless god,. This new person aided in pulling Hades up, their hands pale, wrapping one of his arms over their shoulders.

It was Thanantos.

Persephone memorized his pulled back hair, his scowl, because she was going to kill him. Now she just needed the faceless god to pull the black cloth from their face so she knew who else needed to die for this.

Hades saw Thanantos then too as the faceless god pushed him forward and his jaw clenched.

“And what’s your reason?” Hades growled as they dragged him for the door.

Thanantos glanced at him but didn’t answer. He looked more than uncomfortable.

Chains still dangled from Hades’ wrists, connected but not tying his hands together. Even drugged and beaten, Hades moved fast though. He swung the chains into his grasp and wrapped the loose metal around Thanantos’ neck.

“This better be good news,” Ares answered her call.

Persephone jumped, having forgotten what she was doing as she watched Hades strangle the God of Death. Minthe was screaming.

“This doesn’t sound like good news,” Ares grumbled. “Where are you?”

Hades let him go, his eyes going wide with a gasp. Thanantos dropped and Persephone could see the faceless god had sunk a knife into Hades’ side, standing behind him like some dark devil, an arm tight across Hades' neck. When they pulled the weapon from him, it was the Kronos knife.

“He’s in the basement,” Persephone shouted. “They have him in the basement. There’s only one entrance and it starts as a maze, so we won’t be able to just run down there.”

“Why the fuck did he do that?” Ares said. “Who puts a maze in their house?”

“The basement isn’t safe,” Persephone said. “The Lethe River is down there.”

The silence, the absolute dread, on the other end of the phone was deafening.

“We’re on our way to help you look,” Persephone said.

The faceless god let Hades drop to the floor next to Thanantos, who scrambled to get away from both of them. The faceless one gripped the chains to drag Hades themselves now. Persephone knew where he was going next and fought the urge to vomit in horror.

“Kore.”

Persephone saw Hades’ head lolled back but she had heard what he said, who he called for.

“I’m on my way, love,” she whispered.  
\----  
The house was a disaster. As Persephone and Hera arrived, they found Poseidon standing in the living room surrounded by dust and looking very confused.

“Hades is not going to like what Ares has done to this place,” Poseidon told them.

“You’re right, he’s going to love it,” Ares announced, marching down a hallway littered in wall pieces and debris. He nodded to Persephone, a sledgehammer balanced on his shoulder. “I’m still looking.”

Cordon Bleu took that moment to bite his boots, snarling. Ares watched the dog, laughing. He shook his foot, knocking her off, and retreated down another hallway. Cordon Blue stared after him, stomping one paw and then another, before trotting to that same damn bookcase she’d been obsessing over lately. Persephone watched the floof scratch at the wood again.

“Hades said he hid it behind something people forget on a regular basis,” Hera said, hands fisted, then gave Persephone a dry look. “He thought he was being funny.”

“And what was it?” she asked.

Hera’s brows lifted and her mouth puckered.

“I forgot,” she said meekly.

“What are you looking for?” Poseidon asked.

Huffing, Persephone tried to concentrate. It was behind something then, not built over in a wall. She looked around, rushing to the kitchen. Cordon Bleu started barking, emitting an incessant whine that made her turn around to make sure she hadn’t managed to hurt herself.

“What is it?” she asked, trying not to be irritated with the thing.

When she got closer, she saw the dog has managed to wedge a tiny paw between the bookcase and the wall. It was stuck. Gritting her teeth, she tried to move the bookcase enough to free Cordon Bleu, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Damn,” she muttered and stood to grasp the front of the bookcase and pull. Still nothing. She glanced at the books, wondering if she needed to empty it so it wouldn’t be so heavy, when she realized they weren’t what Hades usually read. These were leather bound, with clear gold writing on the spines. Some were “Common Sense,” “Myself, “My Place,” and even “Socks.”

Frowning, she grabbed the book “Socks” off the shelf and flipped it open to see why he would even own this. But it was full of blank pages. She dropped it and grabbed one that read “What I Was Saying.” It was full of blank pages too.

Poseidon picked up “Socks” from the floor, opened it and laughed.

“Hera,” she called. “‘Things people forget.’ Have you ever looked at what’s in this bookcase?”

Hera rushed over, skimming the spines and frowning.

“He would never read these,” she said.

“They can’t be read,” Persephone said. “That’s the joke. Help me.”

Together they shoved the bookcase inch by inch away from the wall. Cordon Bleu got free and kept yipping, earning an exasperated sigh from Hera. After managing to move it back a little more, Persephone could see another hallway.

“These are great,” Poseidon said, picking up the other books Persephone dropped and flipping through their empty pages.

“Ares,” she called. “Help us!”

He came running into the living room, sledgehammer at the ready. Without bothering to ask what they were doing, he dropped it and shoved them aside. He gripped the bookcase in one go, walking away with it.

“Show off,” Persephone accused.

Hera was beaming.

Persephone turned to face the dark hallway. It was wide and not very tall, as if the shape of it would make people uncomfortable enough not to venture inside. Poseidon stepped next to her, a strange orb of water floating in his palm. It was full of light.

“Why are we hesitating?” he asked, giving her a sidelong glance.

“The Lethe River is down there,” Hera said and Poseidon’s eyes rounded.

“Well, it wouldn’t be a proper rescue without obstacles,” he said and stepped forward. Persephone hurried to walk with him, looking back to see Ares running in as he strapped his sword over his back.

“I’ll tell Zeus and the others,” Hera said and waved, Cordon Bleu sitting at her feet, finally silent. The darkness of the hallway swallowed them. Poseidon’s light flickered and he stopped.

Three doors stood in front of them.

“Hera said Hades made a maze down to the basement,” Persephone said. “He didn’t want it to be easy to get down there.”

She remembered him being dragged along by the faceless god toward the bedroom and reached for the door on the right.

“We have to split up if we want to get to him before…,” she couldn’t say it.

Poseidon stepped up to the middle door, while Ares moved to the one of the left. Persephone spotted a light switch on the wall and flipped it. The previously ominous hallway lit up and she opened her door. The light in that hallway was on too. A little relieved, she looked at Poseidon and Ares.

“Hurry,” she ordered.


	13. Diamond Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to write the longer version of this story that's been stuck in my head for ages. So, hope you enjoy a bit of a lengthier ride than planned! And thank you for the comments! I love them all.
> 
> And this chapter has lots of violence and rape/non-consensual content. Please reference the story warnings and tags. If you need to skip anything, which is totally fine, feel free to just read the very end. And I know it doesn't need to be said, but regardless, consent is everything folks. And it goes both ways.

The hallway was cold.

Though, Persephone told herself she shouldn’t be surprised. It was made of diamond after all. She hurried around another corner, cursing when it was another dead end. She backtracked, turning down the other direction, trying not to panic. The lights strung along the ceiling buzzed and were too bright, amplifying her stress.

“Hades, hang on,” she muttered, trying not to imagine what was being done to him as she tried to find an end to the maze, if she even entered the right door. Only one would bring them to the basement. She made a mental note to tell Hades never to do this again. Mazes were banned from any and all of their future homes.

Her panic eased as the lights dimmed and the diamond floor gave way to gray wood planks. Seeing the familiar tarps draped on the unpainted walls made her dizzy, feeling like she had entered her greatest nightmare. Breathing in the humid, moldy air grounded her and she moved forward more slowly. She still didn’t know who the faceless god was and crossing them in the basement before she found Hades was not something she wished. Knowing that her maze led into the basement meant Poseidon and Ares weren’t going to be joining her, at least not unless they turned back and followed her. She hoped they figured it out soon.

“N-n-no.”

Persephone froze.

A woman made a shushing sound and laughed.

“I like you better this way.” Minthe.

Persephone started trembling. She followed the sound of kissing around another corner and spotted a dark room.

“N-no,” Hades breathed again.

She moved faster, red engulfing her eyes, and stormed into the room. Thanantos jumped from a chair and the Dread Queen raised both hands, vines sprouting from his throat before he could even start to run. The vines swallowed his screams, thickening until a gross crack told her that his jaw snapped.

Thanantos crumbled to the floor, unconscious.

She stepped over him, confused. It wasn’t the bedroom, but there was a desk with screens on it. He had made the security camera in the bedroom larger than the rest. He had been watching them.

Persephone gripped the desk, horrified. Hades was naked, spread-eagle on the bed. Hands and feet were tied by rope, his wounds still bleeding. No one had treated any of them. Instead, Minthe lay against his side, planting kisses across the muscles in his arm and chest. Black lingerie decorated her chest, but nothing around her hips, one leg pressed over his thigh, which she rubbed herself against. The nymph stretched a hand to his groin, massaging his testicles. Fingers trailed upward along his erection and back down.

But Hades’ face was turned away from her, eyes shut tight and jaw clenched.

“N-no,” he said again.

She got up and straddled his waist, flipping her hair and pressing her body against his.

“Persephone,” he groaned and her heart caught at the way his voice broke, almost begging.

But Minthe didn’t like it. She slapped him, the clap resounding even through the speakers. The nymph reached to the nightstand and drew out the Kronos knife, pressing it to his throat.

“Don’t you say her name,” Minthe hissed. “It doesn’t belong in your mouth anymore.”

Persephone let the claws grow, red thorns bursting through her hair.

Hades opened his eyes and held Minthe’s glare. The knife pressed into his skin, as if warning him, but he grinned.

“Persephone,” he said in a steady voice this time.

Instead of using the knife like she threatened, Minthe rose up and grabbed his penis. She lined it up with herself and sank onto him.

“No!” Hades winced like he had been stabbed again, turning his face away once more.

Persephone was running. She didn’t know where, but she followed the pull on her heart, the instinct to turn down another hallway. She spotted the now-familiar door leading into the cavern and the bedroom door on the left. The Dread Queen ripped forward; wings spread as she soared toward it. Vines did not just rip the door out off its hinges but crumbled the doorframe. Wood and drywall fell as she crossed the threshold.

Minthe fucked herself on him, rolling her hips into him as she took in his length again and again. Even as the vines continued to crumble the walls around them, she just looked back at Persephone with a grin and held the knife over his heart.

“Perse-” Hades tried to call for her, eyes wide as he spotted her enter the room, agony written all over his ichor-stained face. But before he could even get her name out, Minthe sank the knife into his chest slowly.

“Don’t say her name,” Minthe hissed again, grinding herself around him.

Persephone could barely breathe through the god wrath as it exploded, deepening her skin to black. Pink lines rippled across her body as she reached out and grabbed Minthe by her throat with both hands, talons sinking into her red flesh, and ripped her off Hades. Persephone vaguely heard the rumbling around them, but it didn’t matter. She crashed Minthe against the opposite wall, glad she had the nymph finally at her mercy.

Minthe seemed to realize the danger she was in, because she helplessly pawed at Persephone, tears streaming down her face.

“Wait,” Minthe screamed. “He came. I might get pregnant. You wouldn’t hurt a piece of him, would you?”

Persephone looked down, everything inside of her clenched with dread as she saw sperm sliding down the nymph’s legs. Her heart shredded at the pain she knew Hades was in but was not worried about any eventual pregnancy.

“I am a fertility goddess,” Persephone reminded. “You were never getting pregnant.”

Minthe’s eyes went wide with the realization.

“Hades,” she screamed, as if he would help her.

Persephone reached into her mouth and gripped the nymph’s tongue.

“His name doesn’t belong in your mouth,” Persephone hissed and then ripped out her tongue. Persephone dropped the nymph, watching her scramble across the floor into the corner. It felt good to be between her and Hades, who was still tied down behind her. He was safe now.

Almost.

Vines wrapped around Minthe’s hands.

“You must repent for touching him.” Persephone didn’t recognize her voice as it echoed through the room.

Minthe was sobbing, blood flooding her mouth and raining down her lips. She tried to speak, but of course Persephone was still holding her tongue.

“…I don’t forgive you,” Persephone said. The tongue turned to a leaf in her hand, which she let flutter to the floor.

The vines tore Minthe’s hands from her body, leaving behind bloody stumps. Vines climbed higher up her arms as she writhed and screamed, gurgles beginning to drown out her cries of horror as the blood in her mouth went down her throat. The vines squeezed, snapping the bones in her arms one by one. The nymph looked up at her, almost pleading, as if anything could save her now.

“Just having looked at him, you insulted me,” Persephone said and reached down, tearing Minthe’s eyes from her skull. Talons sank into the flexible tissue, crushing them with wet pops.

Minthe looked small and weak now as she sat there, arms just cases of loose flesh and shattered bone, blood draining from her empty mouth, gored holes staring blankly up at Persephone.

But the screaming started again. Minthe’s spine snapped one vertebra at a time, a deep green sprouting from the discs. Her body twisted as it morphed, roots sprouting through the tiny bones in her feet, ripping off her toes. The blood turned upward into leafy shoots. Her torso exploded to new, green life and leaves shot up out of her mouth. One final breath was released just before the last bit of her mouth turned into a plant.

All that sat in the corner now was a fern. More specifically, a mint plant.

Persephone frowned at it, wishing she could have tortured her more.

A grunt of pain made her swing around, the Dread Queen stepping back, wings dropping away and the talons sinking back under her nails. Persephone rushed forward, feet hitting the ground. She reached for Hades as he pulled at his rope bindings, but once she did, he flinched and she froze, suddenly afraid he was disgusted with her for what she had done.

Hades studied her, tears in his eyes that made her want nothing more than wrap him in her arms and keep all the realms from him. He was too precious to risk more harm. As strong as he was, as powerful as she knew he could be, she could see how the traumas – new and old – made him fragile. She remembered what Hera said, that he wanted a way to the Lethe River so he could forget. It scared her that he might want that again as the tears fell, dripping to tiny diamonds as he still fought against his ropes, too wounded, too drugged to free himself.

She reached for one of the ropes, but before she could touch it, he called for her so softly it was hardly a whisper. She looked at him again, heart breaking at his tears.

“I-I-I’m so,” he fought now against his stutter, clenching his jaw and trying again. “Sorry,” he breathed and looked at her.

She saw it then or recognized it. He had been the one who was violated, but he was blaming himself, disgusted with himself. She couldn’t stand it, rushing to cup his face in her hands, wiping the little diamonds and tears away as they fell.

“I love you,” she said. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

She pressed her forehead against his, relishing the pleasure of just having him in her hands again. She was never letting him go.

“I-I love y-you,” he said.

She grinned and kissed him just beneath his eyes, kissing away his tears as she sent vines to cut through his bindings. She held him like this until she felt the last of the ropes drop. He dragged one hand across the bed and gripped her arm, holding her where she was. She felt him shaking and pulled back to look at him properly.

The wounds were enough to have killed a mortal. For a god, it was agonizing. Ichor stretched out beneath him from the wounds on his back. His hair was dark and matted with ichor on the left side, his neck injuries crusted over, and the arrowheads still shifted in his chest. The stab wound in his left side still gushed gold, while the fresh wound over his heart wept freely. The knife lay on the floor, discarded.

Persephone tried not to look at his penis, which glistened in Minthe’s arousal and his sperm. She just needed to get him somewhere comfortable and safe and clean him. He would feel better once washed and bandaged.

“Can you stand?” she asked, wondering how she would get him back upstairs. With the amount of drugs they dosed him with, he may be shaky on his legs for days.

Hades didn’t look sure of the answer, but shifted on the bed, trying to sit up. He winced as the bedsheet peeled off his back, but he gritted his teeth and managed to sit up and shift his feet to the floor. She hurt for him as she saw the wounds around his wrists from the shackles and the lashes on his back. In person, they were worse. Deeper.

She helped him stand, but he fell back to the bed.

“Need some help?”

Persephone looked up and felt paralyzed at seeing the faceless god standing in what had been the door. Hades launched himself up, placing himself between them but collapsed. The god moved fast, the whip latching around his neck again.

Persephone felt the Dread Queen scream. Her claws sprouted again, but the god was like a blur. They were in the room, sliding Hades toward the curtain hanging against the wall. They ripped it down and she saw the other half of the room was flooded.

No, it wasn’t finished. The floor dropped off to the Lethe River, which slugged by like a dark shadow.

The faceless god gave the whip a hard jerk, pulling Hades to the edge.

“No!” She reached out, vines flying, but the god was faster as they kicked Hades into the water.


	14. Power of the River

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all amazing and I adore each of you! Thanks for comments and as always, pleeeeaaassse spoil me with more! You guys make my day.
> 
> And content warning in this chapter - talk of rape. If you want to skip it, just avoid Zeus. As we all should.

Persephone sent vines into the water after Hades, tears filling her eyes as she focused on bringing him back to her before… Before what? If he drank the water, he forgot everything. Hera said the fumes alone from this river could make people forget for a time certain things in their lives, but what happened if one fell in?

The vines gripped his body and hauled him out, holding him above the water, his arms and legs motionless. He was beautiful, even unconscious and wounded.

But before bringing him to her eager hands, she looked to the faceless god-

-they were gone.

She didn’t know when they slipped away, or why, but was glad. One less thing to worry about for now.

The vines cradled Hades as they returned him to her, gently resting him to the wood planks. Persephone reached for him but a green arm held her back.

“No.” Poseidon. He was panting, as if he had run here. He glanced back at her, terror in his eyes. “Don’t touch him. The water….”

She obeyed, wrapping her arms around herself, afraid she would touch him anyway. Instead, she watched Poseidon survey his brother, breath catching again and again as if he was trying not to break down. After a moment, he stood and the world fizzed in a watery splash. When the blurriness subsided, she looked around at their bathroom – the one connected to their bedroom. Being away from the basement and back in a familiar place felt strange. It made her dizzy.

“Help me,” Poseidon called as he turned on the water in their walk-in shower. “We need to get the river water off. Quickly.”

She called up more vines, slipping around Hades’ waist and lifting him to the shower. She set him down as carefully as she could and watched Poseidon start to spray him down, black water being pulled from his bruised and ichor-smeared skin.

“What’s-” Hera popped her head into the bathroom, mouth dropping at the sight of Hades. She ran forward, stopping halfway as she got a better look at him. “What?” She turned at Persephone for an explanation.

“The faceless one kicked him into the Lethe River,” Poseidon said. “I got there just in time to see that much.”

“Where did they go after that?” Persephone asked.

“I let them run past me,” he said. “I didn’t give a fuck at that moment because Hades was in that fucking water.”

“Did he swallow any of it?” Hera demanded.

Poseidon shook his head, not answering, not knowing.

“And before that?” Hera looked at her and so did Poseidon, waiting, afraid.

Persephone couldn’t answer, couldn’t say it yet, not until she knew Hades was going to wake up and remember her. And himself. As if understanding this, Poseidon turned the water off, just as soaked as his brother now. He bent and picked Hades up with a heave. The way his hands gripped Hades, green knuckles pressing almost white, made her think he never wanted to let him go.

“Anyone know where the bandages are?” he asked, his light tone at odds with the look he gave Hades: anguished and protective all at once.  
\----  
And just like a few days prior, Persephone found herself in a chair next to their bed, waiting for him to wake up. He was covered in bandages, from his head to his wrists, and most of his abdomen and back. She had slipped the most comfortable sweatpants on him, tying a tight knot in the strings as if that would protect him from Minthe’s greedy cunt.

Persephone shut her eyes, reimagining how she tore the nymph apart, reminding herself that the bitch would never be able to touch or lust after him again.

But now, she just studied his closed eyes, icy lashes fanned out and throwing shadows along his angular cheekbones. A bruise was forming on the left side of his face and it looked a lot like Minthe’s hand. As she reached out to heal it, the bedroom door was flung open, bouncing against the wall. She leapt to her feet, heart in her throat, half expecting the faceless god to be back to do Gaia-knows-what-else to Hades.

It was just Zeus.

“Where is he?” Zeus demanded, as if he couldn’t see his brother lying behind her. She didn’t answer because he was already running across the room, pushing her out of the way. She couldn’t believe how overdramatic Zeus was being as he sat gingerly next to him, picking up one of Hades’ hands and leaning forward to inspect his face. He traced the hand-shaped bruise on his cheek, the most tender and loving thing she had seen him do since knowing him. Even though he and Hades were usually at odds, she suspected Zeus needed his brothers more than they needed him. Watching him now, realizing he wasn’t pretending to be this concerned, she saw that she had been right.

“What happened down there?” Zeus didn’t ask it and also didn’t look away from Hades.

Persephone shifted from foot to foot, throat tight. She saw Hera and Poseidon enter the room too, closing the door behind them for privacy. She wondered who else was in the house.

“Did Ares find his way back out?” she asked.

Hera nodded.

“He brought Thanantos up,” Poseidon said. “He’s having some fun with him now.”

Persephone took a deep breath, pleased.

“We know that other god, the one who has been hiding their face, got away, but what of the nymph?” Hera spat, cocking a hip. Persephone knew her anger wasn’t aimed at her, but those two most of all.

Poseidon wrung his hands together, scared eyes watching her. She saw Zeus giving her a dark side glance through his long hair, gripping Hades’ hand tighter. Persephone opened her mouth, but words wouldn’t come out. Tears did though and Hera was suddenly there, an arm over her shoulders. The goddess gripped her tight, as if finding her own strength to say it.

“She raped him, didn’t she?” Hera was monotone, grim.

“Yes,” Persephone said.

Poseidon back against the wall and slid down, legs stretched across the floor. He stared at Hades horrified. Zeus, however, was just shaking his head.

“So she fucked him,” he said. “They’ve fucked before and he was happy about it then.”

Persephone saw red, the Dread Queen raising her head.

“He was telling her ‘no,’” Persephone shouted. “They had him tied to a bed, drugged, with a knife to his throat.”

“Aw shit.” Poseidon buried his head in his arms, legs up under his elbows, like he couldn’t stand to hear more.

Hera gripped her harder, a tremble strumming through her.

“Kinky,” Zeus snarked.

“Non-consensual,” Persephone shouted down at him.

“Sex is sex, little goddess.” Zeus glared at her, sparks crawling over his skin. “He’ll be fine. He probably enjoyed it. Did he come?”

Hera punched him, right in the jaw. His hair whipped around as his head jerked to the side, and he gaped at her.

“It is not the same,” Hera hissed.

“Gods, Zeus,” Poseidon breathed and from that alone Zeus almost looked sorry.

“Well?” Zeus looked at Persephone, as if his question had been a real one.

She glared at him, blood weeping from her eyes in her anger. “She forced him to. And she stabbed him in the chest as he did. And he wept and felt like he betrayed me. He felt guilty. He apologized, as if he had anything to apologize for! He did nothing wrong!”

That gave him pause, as if hearing that his brother was hurt enough to cry made it more real or easier for the information to register through his thick skull.

“I’m just saying,” he persisted then and Poseidon sighed in frustration, “look at him. I felt this pain, every lash of the whip, every arrow and knife puncture, everything. That is more traumatic, trust me.”

“Just because you couldn’t feel his rape, doesn’t make it less traumatizing,” Persephone raged. “Just because it didn’t leave a mark for you to bandage, doesn’t mean it isn’t still there.”

Hera had an arm wrapped over her shoulders again, standing resolute beside her.

“Where is the nymph?” Poseidon asked, head raised from his arms again, worried.

Persephone felt the Dread Queen recede for a moment. She glanced at Zeus, wondering if he’d be angry at another act of wrath.

“…I … turned her into a plant,” she confessed.

All three stared at her.

“…After I had ripped out her tongue… And her hands… And broken her arms….”

“Gods,” Poseidon breathed.

Persephone glanced at him. “…And ripped out her eyes.”

Hera laughed, then covered her mouth.

They all looked at Zeus, waiting. His brows were raised, mouth hanging open. After a moment, he nodded.

“So we don’t need to worry about her anymore then,” he said. “Just this faceless one. Do you think they will come for him again?”

“Yes,” Poseidon said. “You don’t kick someone into the Lethe River and then move on. Hades may have found out who they are or maybe they have their own agenda separate from the nymph’s. Either way, I’d say we’ll be seeing them again soon. Likely before Hades is mended. It’s not often to have him this … vulnerable.”

“And we don’t know how much Hades has forgotten?” Zeus asked.

“And we won’t until he wakes,” Poseidon said.  
\----  
Persephone perused the Underworld News, ink smearing on her hands as she turned one of the thin and crinkly pages. She was looking for articles to read to Hades, sitting in the chair by the bed again. It had been just a few hours since the family had gathered in the room, Zeus being an asshole as always. She still fumed about what he said, but didn’t want to pay attention to that. Instead, she spent every second with Hades. She had brushed his hair, tucked another blanket around him, told him how they’re going to have to redecorate because he would not believe the damage Ares did to the house.

And now, she was catching him up on the news. Only the fluffy stuff though.

“Oh, look at this,” she told him. “A bunch of elementary students had a portrait drawing contest. Of you!” She turned the paper around to show him the winning portrait, which was just a black page with red eyes and sharp teeth. She was surprised to see that he looked.

After a silent, shocked moment as she processed that he was awake, he looked away from the child’s portrait and pointed questioningly to himself, asking if that was really him.

Her mouth dried up. She threw the paper aside and sat on the bed next to him, taking in his wide stare and concentrated frown.

“Hades,” she breathed, reaching out to brush some of his hair out of his face. He blinked, like the gesture was strange, brow crinkling. She smiled at him, lightly stroking his cheek. When he didn’t do anything but stare, looking more concentrated, she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his.

He surprised her again as he tilted his head, pressing lips to hers. It was a sweet kiss, tender, almost chaste. She smiled against him, opening her mouth, eager to feel him again. But he pulled away, breathless. She reached for him to kiss him again, but he leaned back, a clear ‘no.’

She immediately sat up.

“Hades?” she asked, not sure if he wasn’t ready for more contact after Minthe or if something else was wrong, something she didn’t feel prepared to hear.

He patted her hands, which were clasped in her lap, shaking his head.

“A-a-i-don,” he started, but his stutter was strong. It frustrated him and he frowned some more.

“Aidoneus,” she finished for him.

He nodded with a small grin, relieved. But Persephone’s stomach was tight, the all too familiar dread sinking in.

“What’s the last thing you remember,” she asked, working hard to keep her voice sweet and soft.

His face shadowed, pain crossing his features, putting lines in his skin that she had traced before, lines that appeared when he was most displeased.

“K-k-kron,” he started, cutting off in frustration again.

“Your father?” she asked and he winced.

“Z-zeus,” he said.

“Saved you,” she helped and he nodded.

Shit.


	15. Run for It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the love and the comments!! I treasure them all!!! Sorry for the later-than-usual update. I haven't been sleeping and a tired me is a brain-dead me. But the chapter is extra long to make up for the wait. Enjoy!

Persephone slipped out of the bedroom, taking deep breaths through her nose so she wouldn’t panic. She stepped over debris from Ares’ excavation of the walls, which it seemed someone had swept into piles in an attempt the to clean up, and looked for the others. She entered the empty living room, feeling increasingly numb. The bookcase was still moved aside, the hallway leading to the basement gaping and menacing. It was no wonder none of the others were in this room.

She wandered to the kitchen and stopped.

Ares stood at the sink, scrubbing what looked an awful lot like ichor off his hands and forearms as he whistled some disturbingly chipper tune. Hera sat in a corner by the bar, drinking some cocktail. Meanwhile, Zeus and Hecate stood on either side of the island counter having some sort of stare-off over gods knew what, though whatever it was Zeus probably deserved being challenged over it.

And poor Poseidon seemed backed into a corner, seemingly trapped by a growling Cordon Bleu. She heard him cooing to the tiny floof, “No, no more fish treatsies. Leave me alone.”

None of them bothered looking at Persephone as she stood there, except Poseidon who waved for help.

“He’s awake,” Persephone said in the quiet.

Zeus leapt to his feet, hair whirling as he faced her, while Hecate unfolded her arms and Hera spilled her drink. Ares peered over one flexed shoulder, the red spreading around his eyes as if he knew bad news was coming next. Poseidon opened his mouth to speak, but Cordon Bleu yipped at him and he jumped instead.

“What does Hades remember?” Hecate asked, stepping closer, hands fisted at her sides.

“He thinks he’s just been saved from Kronos,” Persephone said, and a furious onslaught of emotions hit her with the realization that he had no memory of her at all. She looked down at the engagement ring he had slipped on her hand just a week or so ago. He had been smiling that goofy, toothy grin from ear-to-ear the rest of the night because she had said yes to him. Everything shifted in the room and she fought burning, fiery tears. She just wanted that Hades back, to see that smile, how he picked her up and spun her around. She wanted to be back in that moment, before this mess happened….

“Well, looks like I’m his favorite person again.” Zeus puffed out his chest and made to move past Persephone, but she stood in his way, suddenly detesting the idea of Zeus trying to change who Hades was while he was stuck in this state of mind: thinking he was just a few decades old, having mostly known torture and neglect at the hands of his father.

Zeus squinted down at her, not sure why she was in his way, but before he could form words with that sneering mouth Hera slammed her empty wine glass down and stomped forward.

“Not at all,” she said and Persephone grinned at her, glad she had her as an ally again. “You’re remembering it all wrong. He was in love with me. I’m the only one he’ll trust right now.”

“Hey!” Poseidon shouted, Cordon Blue jumping up as if she could bite his face off.

Persephone stared at Hera, not at all liking the flush in her cheeks and how she eagerly glanced down the hallway, as if she could spot Hades. And Persephone remembered what Hera told her back in the library of the Fates, that if she had her way she would have married Hades long ago. Persephone had an uncomfortable feeling that where Hades believed he was in his timeline is a moment Hera could have had him forever.

“No,” Persephone said, not budging from the doorway.

Hera and Persephone passed a glare and Zeus blinked between them.

“Before we do anything, let’s just take a second to be grateful that he didn’t drink from the river,” Hecate said, breaking the tension. “The fact that he remembers who he is – for the most part – means that the rest will come back to him.”

Hera had the nerve to pout.

“How long will it take?” Persephone asked, hating that he was this vulnerable around his own family who leapt at the chance to take advantage of him. She didn’t want to think what this could mean for the faceless god who might still be after him.

“Well, for those who breathed in the fumes of the Lethe for too long, some remembered what was lost after a few hours and others took a few days,” Hecate said, then held up a finger when Persephone started to breathe a sigh of relief. “I suspect it will take Hades a few weeks, maybe some months in a worst-case scenario.”

“A few months?” she and Hera said together, then passed another dirty look.

“Be patient,” Hecate said firmly to them both. “And ready … because he will remember what Minthe did to him eventually.”

“And what do we tell him in the meantime?” Ares asked, drying his hands on a dishtowel covered in smiling cartoon dogs. “If this is the Aidoneus freshly pulled from the maw of Kronos, he won’t know me. He won’t know this house or these clothes or his own fucking dogs.” Ares waved the towel and then threw it across the kitchen, furious. “Won’t know you, Hecate, or the love of his fucking life.” Hera snorted and Persephone felt the prick of red, thorny vines sprouting in her hair. “How do we handle this? And for those of us who didn’t know him then, what should we expect?”

Hecate stared at the God of War helplessly, for once not having an answer.

“I’ll do some research on whether or not we should explain the situation to him, or if that might somehow make things worse,” she said.

“He’s going to see straight through it,” Poseidon said, handing Cordon Bleu another treat, soothing the beast for the moment. “He’ll either call us on our bullshit or lose any trust he has for who he does remember and make a run for it.”

“So, until we know what’s the safest option, keep him distracted,” Hecate said.  
\----  
Persephone trotted to catch up with Hera as she hurried down the hall toward the bedroom where Hades rested.

“I wanted to see him first,” Zeus protested, stomping after them.

Hera burst into the room and immediately turned to catch Persephone.

“You don’t understand,” Hera whispered, pleading. “Who he is right now, he’s innocent and damaged and he only trusts me.” She reached out and closed the door in Zeus’ face, locking it.

“Hey!” Zeus shouted.

“But he is my fiancé,” Persephone reminded with a growl. “If you’re that unhappy with Zeus, find someone else. Leave Hades alone. He’s made his choice.”

Hera raised a brow and turned with a flourish. “Aidoneus, darling!”

Persephone rolled her eyes, fighting the Dread Queen. She told herself Hera was just miserable, delusional from too much alcohol, and nostalgic, but for her to behave like this so immediately after what Minthe did made her see red. The Dread Queen whispered for a new Underworld law where no one, man or woman alike, could look on their king’s face, let alone touch him. It was madness, but then again – it came from the Dread Queen. She was the essence of blind rage.

But then she saw him and everything in her softened. He was sitting up out of bed, setting his feet on the floor, and his hair was an absolute mess. It stuck up everywhere, like he had been worrying his fingers through it, and the way he looked around the room with a mix of fear and wonder made her want to scoop him up and hide from existence with him. Then his eyes, so curious and gentle, landed on her and his smile stirred something feral in her.

Hera interrupted them though, stepping between them to hug him to her breasts. Gods, she was so obvious. She pulled back, cupping his shocked face in her hands.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

Hades stared at her, confused.

“N-n-not s-sure,” he said, his voice low and rumbling as he tenderly pulling her hands off him, which made Persephone smile. But then he moved her hands to his arms, which Hera seemed more than happy to touch. He frowned at her when she just ran her fingers over his muscles and he pointed to one of his scars. And Persephone realized – if he thought he was just saved from Kronos, he wouldn’t have those scars yet.

This seemed to register through Hera’s excitement, because she froze and glanced back at Persephone.

“Hades … Aidoneus, do you feel strong enough to walk?” Persephone changed the subject and sat next to him, keeping her hands in her lap. She loved how his eyes followed her, mouth hanging open ever so slightly. 

After a moment, he nodded and gently shifted Hera aside so he could try standing.

“Just no falling into ponds this time,” Hera said.

He peeked at her and then laughed. It sounded so good to hear it, that deep, honeyed chuckle, one side of his smile lifting higher than the other, making a dimple.

Persephone bit her lip, trying not the hate the history shared between him and Hera.  
\----  
It took a few hours of having to listen to Hera crack inside jokes, but finally she had to head home to check on the babysitter watching Hebe – though she didn’t tell Hades that’s why she was leaving. Persephone could only imagine his reaction to learning Hera had a child all of a sudden.

In the few hours though, Hades had managed to walk a few steps around the room. Otherwise, he sat on the bed with them, eating a sandwich Hera had insisted on making.

The one thing Persephone had enjoyed were the stolen glances he passed with her as she sat awkwardly on the corner of the bed, a silent participant as Hera babbled and brushed his hair or arm every now and then with her fingers. He didn’t seem to notice though, his eyes always finding Persephone. The more she caught him staring and held his gaze, the more heated those stolen glances became. It was like he just couldn’t help himself, though genuinely seemed to try to pay attention to Hera’s stories.

“I’ll be back in a flash,” Hera told him now as she got up to leave. She pressed a kiss to his bruised cheek and then waved goodbye to Persephone as she slipped out of the room. Zeus wasn’t on the other side of the door, thankfully, having given up a while ago.

Now alone, Persephone felt the weight of Hades’ stare and bit back a smile. She glanced over at him from under her lashes, knowing what got him going and very much willing to use what she had to reclaim her territory. She loved his resulting blush and swallow hard, shifting uncomfortably under her attention. It was adorable.

“We should stretch your legs,” Persephone said, hopping off the bed.

He cleared his throat and nodded, shifting to put his feet on the floor. She checked his bandages as he gathered the strength to stand. They would need to be changed soon – ichor was starting to seep through. After a moment, she realized he wasn’t moving and that she was running a hand at the base of his hairline, carding the short locks. He was staring at her, curious.

“Sorry,” she said, taking her hand back and holding it like it would betray her again.

He gave her a sweet smile and stood. He was unsteady. She put a stabilizing hand under his elbow, floating up to be a little easier for him to lean on. He watched her, amazed, but then took a step forward with a deep sigh.

“What was that sigh for?” she asked.

“Y-you’re just,” he paused, fighting through the stutter. “B-beaut-….” He grinned at her and shrugged.

“So are you,” she said.

He laughed at her. She knew he didn’t believe her. Even when they first met, he had called her a liar when she told him that he was handsome.

His legs gave out then, but he caught himself on the wall and let himself slide to the floor. He didn’t look bothered, as if he was used to it. She wondered how long it took him to regain his strength after what happened with Kronos, slipping down the wall to sit next to him.

“W-what is,” he was giving her a strange look, smiling, “y-your-”

“Name?” Persephone pulled her hair back, tugging out some tangled knots as she hid the wince from him even having to ask. “Persephone,” she said and caught him admiring her chest. He blushed and raised his eyes to the ceiling.

His painfully respectful manners reminded her of how he treated her in their early days. Knowing that he was always this way was exciting and comforting at the same time. She chewed on her lip, wanting to play with him.

“Can I show you something?” she asked.

He lifted his brows at her and nodded. She smiled and wildflowers popped through the wood floor beneath them. Some floomed in his hair, petals fluttering around his face. He looked up, cross eyed, at them and laughed. She soaked up the sound, suddenly glad he couldn’t remember Minthe or how he really got injured. Seeing him like this, a mix of youthful innocence, was almost charming. She had caught shadows of grief in his face, but then he would look at her and it would just … disappear.

Like now, she caught him staring again, looking at her with his head tilted like she was the most amazing creature he’d ever seen. He glanced at her mouth, a navy blush crawling up his cheeks. Knowing him like she did, he was probably wondering what she can do with it. He looked away but she felt encouraged, emboldened.

Leaning forward, she captured his soft lips with hers. He stiffened at the contact, but he didn’t pull away. She opened her mouth slowly to not scare him, darting her tongue to lick his bottom lip. It tasted smokey, familiar, and she felt herself get hot. He gasped and she moved into his mouth, pressing her tongue against his. The sound of their wet mouths parting and meeting again made her heart race and she slid herself back between his lips. His forked tongue rolled around hers and she pushed it down, running her tongue between the devilish split in his. He shivered and broke away to catch his breath. But she wasn’t ready to catch hers, instead pressing kisses along his clenched jaw. His hands found her hips, fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt and brushing her skin. She took hold of one of his wrists, lifting his hand up her shirt to grip a breast through her bra. He resisted only a little and once there, kneaded it, squeezing as his breathing quickened.

She couldn’t stop her moan of pleasure, gripping his shoulders to steady herself. He cried out in pain at the contact and she leaned back. Seeing muscles in his jaw clench, his chest rise and fall, made her even more aroused. She removed her hands, not wanting to get off on his pain, but he was pulling her back for more. His lips were commanding this time, his tongue pushing into her mouth to explore now. She mewled and tangled her hands in his silky hair, biting his bottom lip. His hand still gripped her breast, big fingers pulling down the bra to feel her skin. She encouraged him by arching her back, pushing her breast harder into his hand. A thumb strummed her nipple, again, and again.

Something rained on her head and she looked up, amazed by the bulges of crystal sprouting from the ceiling. Tiny blue sapphires rained on them. She lifted her hands to catch them, loving how they glittered, how she had a chance to see him come undone and lose control of his powers like she had when they first met. She beamed at him and he shifted, embarrassed. She noticed his penis pushing against his sweatpants, huge and twitching. The way the fabric clung to every ridge made her ache.

She watched him closely as she positioned herself between his legs, ready to stop if he looked uncomfortable at any point. But his eyes flashed red, his breathing hitched. She reached out and stroked him through his pants and his eyelids fluttered. She spread her fingers along the curved, sinfully smooth, head of his erection. Her mouth watered as she leaned in and licked it through the fabric. A moan caught in his throat.

“Why is it raining jewels?” Poseidon asked, throwing the door open. He stopped short when he spotted Hades and Persephone on the floor, her head pressed into his crotch, surrounded by flowers and crystals.

“Oh yeah,” Poseidon said, amazingly unsurprised, as Hades grinned awkwardly and waved. “We have to go through this again? I thought you learned how to stop the rain of wealth with Hera.”

Hades squinted at him, confused. Persephone had to squash the rearing Dread Queen’s jealousy down.

“H-hera?” Hades asked, then started panicking, backing away from Persephone. “A-am I-?”

“With her?” Poseidon finished, then turned to Persephone. “I honestly don’t remember how close they were other than they had a few, you know….”

Hades studied his brother with a displeased growl, then stared at Persephone wide-eyed, waiting for an answer. She could see the guilt in his eyes because he wasn’t a cheater. There wasn’t a bone of betrayal in his body and by the way he was trying to shift further away from her, how his eyes shadowed, told her that he hated himself for what just transpired. Her momentary gratitude toward the Lethe River for removing Minthe and what she did from his memory was just that – momentary. She didn’t know what to say, but desperately needed to make him stop looking at her like that, like she had tricked him.

“Gods, Persephone, let him heal a bit before jumping all over him,” Zeus said as he barged in.

Hades’ face was dark with shame as he watched Persephone, brow cinched and jaw clenched. Zeus grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to his feet. Hades cried out at the pain.

“Don’t be so serious, brother,” Zeus said, shaking him. He winced.

“Zeus, what the fuck man?” Poseidon tried to still the shaking, gripping them both.

“What’s with the frown? Zeus asked. “What did I walk into besides Persephone greedy for some big blue dick?”

Hades looked at Zeus in horror and Poseidon turned his face upward, as if there was a god in existence who could help him.

“Hade-… Aidoneus … wants to know if he and Hera are, you know,” Poseidon said, looking to Persephone for help. She kept her mouth shut, arms folded. She was not going to participate in a lie until Hecate said she had to. He was hers and she didn’t want to share, not even pretend to share for any amount of time.

“Oh, yes,” Zeus said, giving Persephone an exaggerated wink. “Hot and heavy, those two.”

As Zeus made a conspiring face with an unamused Poseidon, Persephone caught the heartbreak in Hades’ eyes. He refused to look at her as Zeus navigated him back to the bed.

“Aidoneus,” she called, needing him to … look at her, reach for her, do anything but block her out. But he acted like he hadn’t heard her.

Zeus noticed and bounced on the bed next to him, crossing his legs.

“Oh, brother,” Zeus laughed, wrapping an arm around Hades, who flinched at the pain it caused. Poseidon peeled Zeus’ arm away from Hades, mumbling expletives. “So you had a tryst with Persephone here while … madly … in love with Hera.” Zeus rolled his eyes. “Hera’s used to it, I promise.”

Hades was angry now, eyes red and skin rippling black as constellations flickered across his scars. Zeus gave him a dubious side-eye.

“Get out,” Hades told him.

“Don’t be so serious,” Zeus shouted. “This is our chance to get you to loosen up a bit-”

“Stop trying to change him,” Persephone said.

“We should really change your bandages,” Poseidon said, pointing at the ichor seeping through.

“O-out,” Hades repeated, then finally looked at Persephone, eyes blazing a red as hot as fire. It was not the lustful burn or the passionate, smoldering glow, but an angry god. He had never looked at her like that before. She had to fix it, planting her feet and lifting her chin.

“No,” she said.

His eyes burned brighter, sparking white. As the black god-wrath rippled through him again, he took on a visage of a terrible, glorious devil. Persephone wanted to crawl up him and please him until he came in her, until all that anger was forgotten in the wake of an orgasm.

“Leave,” he commanded.

“Don’t make me leave.” She hated how her voice suddenly weakened, everything inside her quivering at the idea of him sending her away. “Hades,” she pleaded.

“A-aidoneus,” he corrected, sharp teeth bared. “N-now get out.”  
\----  
Persephone stood in the hallway outside the room, pacing back and forth. She chewed on her thumb nail, trying to bite down her panic, her embarrassment because the whole incident somehow made her feel like "the other woman." But it wasn’t true! She looked at her engagement ring, turning on a heel to pace in front of the door again. Hades belonged to her and she belonged to him.

She was exhausted, not having slept at all since pulling Hades from the Lethe. And now this, of all things.

It was nauseatingly early in the morning, somewhere between 1 a.m. and 2 a.m. Hera had been in the room with Hades for a good two hours and whenever Persephone tried to enter, Poseidon appeared just to pull her back out.

“He’s furious,” Poseidon said the first time she tried. “He thinks you wanted to hurt Hera.”

“What?” Persephone balked as he yanked her back into the hallway.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense to him. He doesn’t believe you would actually want him.”

To have him think of her as a liar on top of it made her want to sob and scream and tear the kingdom to shreds.

Now her anger had melded into crippling anxiety. She leaned her ear against the door, only hearing Hera laugh. The Dread Queen scraped her claws on the wood.

“Damaging your own house now, are you?” Hecate asked.

Persephone turned, never happier to see the God of Magic before.

“Can we tell him?” Persephone asked, grabbing Hecate by the arms. “Please say we can tell him what’s going on, who we are.”

By the pitying look she gave Persephone, she knew the answer. Persephone let go and started pacing again, hands shaking now.

“I believe if we tell him before he remembers on his own, the stress on his mind will be enough to put him into hibernation,” Hecate said and the more she spoke, the tighter Persephone’s chest felt. “The Lethe magic is powerful. We need to let it pass through his system. He will eventually remember.”

Persephone nodded and kept pacing. She wasn’t sure how long it was before she looked up, only to find Hecate had stepped away, leaving her to boil on her own. Not trusting Hera to keep her hands off him, she cracked the door open enough to look inside.

Hades was seated in one of the leather chairs, mugs of coffee on a tiny table. Hera had at some point migrated into his lap and her hips were grinding into him, though his jaw was clenched and his hands were gripping the armrests like he wanted to stand, like he wanted her to stop. Persephone watched, horrified, as Hera leaned into him, hands gripping his hair to stop him from turning away from her. She kissed him, slow and sensual, but his brow knotted and he extracted her fingers from his hair and broke away. He looked like he was in pain.

Persephone couldn’t stand watching another woman trying to manipulate her way into his bed, gripping the door handle, ready to throw it open and have it out with Hera.

But then Hades was speaking and she stopped when she heard her name.

“You and her almost had sex?” Hera asked and then laughed. “You’re actually telling me? You aren’t trying to hide it or excuse it away?”

“I-I’m sorry,” he said. “I d-don’t know why I-I’m forgetting things, like you and me….”

“Oh my sweet Aidoneus,” Hera purred. “This is why I should have said yes when you asked me to marry you back then. You’re as loyal as a dog.”

Persephone saw red. Hera was drunk. And she was starting to say too much, not to mention degrade him. The goddess had been stuck too long with Zeus. Sometimes she forgot how to be nice to the people she cared about. Persephone just didn’t want her to turn that thoughtless venom on Hades.

“S-should have said y-yes?” Hades asked, voice low.

Hera hiccuped. “I wanted to but was young and just like all the other girls. I wanted to lay with the villainous god who looked like his titan father, the one who killed so many of us. Gods, you were – and are – every goddess’ wet dream. But really, it’s the same reason,” she hiccupped again, “why no one wants to be with you now. You’re still the spitting image of Kronos and everyone hates him. You're fuckable, not dateable.”

Persephone covered her mouth, hating Hera in that moment. The silence was deafening as Hades’ processed her words, hurt spread all over his face.

But then….

“When d-did I ask y-you to marry me?” he asked.

“Oh ages ago, dear.” Hera waved a hand. “But you forgetting everything else gives us a second chance, huh?”

He was glaring at her and Persephone knew he was starting to put the pieces together. Persephone threw the door open.

“Hera,” she called. “We need to talk.”

“Second cha-chance?” he asked, a wrinkle of distaste on the bridge of his nose.

“At this point, my love, I’d leave Zeus for you in a heartbeat,” Hera slurred. “The kids love you as their uncle. They wouldn’t mind.”

“Hera!” Persephone shouted.

The goddess looked at up at her and then smiled sheepishly.

“Am I on his lap?” Hera asked and slid off, straightening her dress. “Whoops.”

Persephone grabbed her and stomped her into the hallway, looking back once to see Hades staring after them. She couldn’t decipher his haunted expression.

“We can’t tell him,” Persephone hissed, giving Hera a shove. “And don’t you lay another finger on him or I swear to Gaia you’ll be-”

“Be what?” Hera challenged. “Another mint plant? My dear, I’m the queen."

“Does Zeus know how you’re behaving?” Persephone asked.

“The better questions is, does he care?” She reeked of alcohol and grabbed Persephone to keep her balance.

“Go home, please,” Persephone said.

“Hades needs me.”

“He needs you to go home.”

Hera’s watery eyes focused for a moment on Persephone, firm and serious. And then her whole body sagged, as if she knew Persephone was right.

“I'm sorry," Hera told her shoes, then peeked at her. "Can you blame me though?" When Persephone just continue to glower, Hera sighed. "Promise me you’ll be good to him, the way I never was,” she whispered. 

“I promise.” Persephone turned her around and gave her another shove. “Now go.”

Hera begrudgingly obeyed, shuffling from one side of the hallway to another. Persephone watched her go and then steeled herself with a deep breath before heading back into the bedroom to face Hades. She hoped he didn’t have too many questions that she couldn’t answer.

“Aidoneus,” she said, stepping inside, and his name fell empty from her mouth. She looked at the chair, but he wasn’t in it. “Aidoneus?” She surveyed the room. He wasn’t anywhere.

Heartbeat speeding up, Persephone searched the bathroom. Empty.

“Aidoneus!” She held her throat, feeling a frantic knot inside, one she couldn’t swallow around.

But he didn’t answer, because he wasn’t there.


	16. Wicked Son of Kronos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the love and comments!!!!! I get so excited when I see a new one. And sorry for the late update - life got nuts for a bit there.
> 
> And AnderesViolo, what a huge compliment! Thank you! Teeny side note about me is that I am a writer for a living :) I'm just InkSpills here to upend my creative overflow (and because LO is so much fun!), but wanted to be anonymous because this is just for funsies. Question for you all- I'm actually getting ready to post an original comic on Webtoon's canvas. Haven't decided which pen name I should use. Should I be InkSpills there so you can find me? Would be kinda fun to stay anonymous with it. Otherwise, I am more than happy just being InkSpills here to play in the LO sandbox :)

“When I said to distract him and not tell him what happened, this is not what I meant.” Hecate was furious with all of them.

Persephone paced alongside the dining table where the God of Magic had everyone else seated. As wonderful as it was to see Zeus be yelled at, Hera hadn’t left the house like Persephone told her to and Hades wasn’t anywhere to be found. Persephone had searched, with their help, but Hades was gone.

Hades left them. Left her.

She couldn’t stop the tears, the pain in her chest, the absolute fear of having Hades injured, almost all of his memories gone, wandering alone somewhere… By how they handled the situation, Hades must be confused and scared. At best, he was wandering one of the realms trying to find answers. At worst, he was being held by the faceless god again. If that was the case, then it would be their fault this time.

It would be all her fault.

She winced just at the memory of the whippings, the crack of the cat o-nine tails cutting into Hades as he dangled in chains.

“We just got him back!” Hecate was yelling. “He is badly injured from the Kronos knife and variations thereof and now we can’t help him, we can’t protect him, because we don’t know where in Gaia he even is or if he is even alone! If the faceless god has him…” Hecate left the rest of the threat empty and from how she covered her mouth and turned away it was because she could barely stomach the situation.

Persephone evaluated the others, heart racing, trying to picture what Hades would do in her shoes. But her mind was blank with panic, meanwhile Poseidon winced each time Hecate started speaking and Zeus just rolled his eyes. Hera kept her face inches above a plate of scrambled eggs like she could force herself out of the hangover making her sick. Ares leaned against the wall, puffing like a bull and tightening the leather straps around his hands like he was about to go to war.

“We just got him back and you,” Hecate pointed an accusatory finger at Poseidon, who looked on the verge of crying, “you have to try throwing him back in a relationship from ages ago because … because why?”

“I thought that’s what we were supposed to do,” Poseidon said, voice trembling. “I thought we were recreating, as best we could, what things were like back then and he was Hera’s plaything then, wasn’t he?” He looked around. “Am I remembering it wrong? It was so long ago.”

“Plaything?” Persephone felt blood dripping from her eyes as she turned on Hera. “He was just sexually assaulted, and not only do you try forcing him into something else, but you used him as a ‘plaything’ after he was pulled from his father? So, you’ve manipulated him before.”

“Didn’t I say that I’m sorry already?” Hera asked, elbows on the table, makeup smeared around her eyes like she’d been beaten. Persephone wished she had thrown a few hits at the goddess.  
“I should be apologized to,” Zeus announced. “My wife threw herself at my idiot brother.”

The Dread Queen shifted to the forefront. She stood with them, all of them, and Persephone could only watch as the queen took it in, growing angrier and angrier while Hades got farther and farther away.

“Idiot brother?” Poseidon was mad now. “He gets thrown into the Lethe River and has most of his memories wiped and you call him an ‘idiot’ for it?”

“I’m just saying, my wife tried to sleep with my brother who doesn’t even remember his own name right now and I’m the victim.” Even as he said it, Zeus was laughing like it was all some joke.

“Like you have any leg to stand on,” Hera seethed.

The Dread Queen swung the scythe. Persephone watched the blade slice through the air and crack into the dining table right between Hera and Zeus. Both shut their mouths and looked at her with wide eyes. Persephone listened to the slow drip of blood that sank off her clothes, splashing on the wood floor.

Then Ares was beside her, pulsing red. She felt his powers, the call for war, the push to kill. The Dread Queen breathed it in like a drug. Red vines pocked with thorns crowned her head. It took every inch of self-control not to raise the scythe and take off Hera’s head. Not that it could kill her, but it would be fun to watch the golden thing roll.

“Hera,” she said instead, hands shaking against the urge to do it anyway. “You are banned from the Underworld.”

“You can’t-”

“She might not have the authority, but I do,” Hecate said, standing on Persephone’s other side. “With the king injured and missing, it puts the realm in crisis and me in charge. At this moment, you are a threat.”

“Zeus, you can’t possibly allow this,” Hera turned to her husband, who was frowning at them.

“When we do find Hades, I can’t trust that you won’t cause more harm,” Hecate said.

Hera started crying. “I’d never harm him. We are close, we are family. Zeus, tell them!”

“Hecate, you aren’t part of the triarchy,” Zeus said flatly, pushing a hand onto the cracking dining table near the scythe’s blade. “If anything, I would take over instead until Hades is found and I’m not banning Hera.”

“You can’t take control of this realm,” Hecate argued.

“I am King of the Gods.” Zeus stood, electricity sparking through his hair like a wind.

“Hades set up a system-”

“He did what? Did he expect this to happen?”

“You imprisoned the titans in his realm! You put his own father here! Of course, he had a plan in case”

A ping. A soft one. It rang from Persephone’s pocket. The Dread Queen stepped back and she breathed again, not realizing she had been holding her breath. Persephone let go of the scythe and pulled her phone from her pocket, turning away from the shouting mass of gods.

“Please,” she begged her phone, “please be him.”

It was a text from an unknown number. It simply read: “You lost something.”

Persephone let out a little sob, shaking as another text came in. An image.

Of Hades.

He was wandering down some crooked side street, somewhere she didn’t recognize other than it was still in the Underworld. His bandages were soaked through with dark gold ichor. His hair draped shadows across his face as he looked around, concentrated.

“No,” Persephone gasped. “No-no-no.”

Another message came through, this time a video. Persephone played it, turning up her volume.

“Try putting this on.” The voice was familiar, sickeningly so. Whoever was recording handed Hades a sweatshirt, apparently having approached him already and gaining enough trust to sit him down at a tiny breakfast shop. It was early enough that no one else was around and the shop employees were just turning on the lights.

Hades took the sweatshirt, eying his new companion with suspicion, which Persephone was glad to see. He slipped the clothing on, wincing as he did. When he pulled it down, she saw that it had Minthe’s face printed on the front. Persephone tasted bile on the back of her tongue.

The video ended when Hades gave his companion a small, twitching smile. It wasn’t genuine, but … scared.

“Do you know where they are?” Ares asked, watching from over her head.

But then another video came through. She played it.

The shop had apparently opened because Hades’ companion slid a plate over to him. There was a cupcake on it, piled with pink frosting. He gave the treat a frown and raised a brow at whoever passed it to him, the expression so familiar it hurt Persephone. Hades was in there, his memories were in there, she saw it in the spark in his eyes, but then it was gone again and he was confused.

“Good, don’t eat it,” Ares whispered.

“Do you know what that is?” the companion asked.

Hades just stared, looking disheveled in the sweatshirt and his messy hair, the bruise on his face from Minthe’s hand darker. He looked so beaten. Persephone needed to wrap him up and tuck him in and bar the door from everyone until he was himself again.

“It’s a cupcake,” the person said. “Chocolate, to be exact. Not sure if you like them or not. I never saw you with one before, only ever a cigar between your teeth or Persephone.”

Hades’ frown morphed into a glare, a spark igniting in his eyes again before being swept away.

“You really don’t remember anything, do you?”

Hades looked into his lap, frustrated. His companion laughed. Hades raised his face at the noise, a clench to his jaw that made his nobility prominent. Persephone realized he might not remember anything, but he still had … something. A fire.

The video ended.

“I think I know where he is,” Poseidon said. Persephone jumped, not having realized everyone in the room had crowded around her.

“East side, over by the strip club?” Zeus asked.

“Not even close,” Poseidon argued. “This is the tiny shop by Underworld Corp.”

“No,” Hecate said. “Wrong shop. Too dirty. This is where he found Persephone.”

Poseidon threw a hand at them and disappeared in splash, done with the arguing.

“No, I’ll find him first,” Zeus muttered and fizzed out with a clap of thunder.

Another video came then.

“Look for clues,” Ares muttered, his teeth even red now.

Hades was eating the cupcake. He looked so innocent Persephone started to cry again. He was gazing around the street, setting the rest of the cupcake down as he chewed. A smear of pink frosting stayed on his upper lip.

“…I never liked sugary things,” his companion said and by the muffled sound of it, they were also eating. “I got vanilla. Is the chocolate good?”

Hades gave them a look that very loudly said “no,” but he nodded in a polite way as he tried to swallow. His companion laughed again.

“We agree on something,” they said. “How strange.”

The whole interaction was eerie. It was like watching a predator playing with its next meal and Persephone worked hard to not try reaching through the phone to pick him up and drag him home. If only that could happen.

“Wh-who are,” Hades stuttered, taking a breath to control it, “y-you?”

“That’s the big question, isn’t it? Let’s talk a little about who you are first. Did you know you judge the dead?”

Hades’ eyes went wide and he pointed to himself. Ares started growling.

“They better not say too fucking much,” Ares said. “Do you recognize the place yet?”

Persephone shook her head.

“Well, my question to you is … if you judge the dead then who judges you? Because, after all, you are evil.”

Hades leaned back.

“The fuck-?” Ares bit out.

“You are a wicked god. When people say you look like Kronos, they also mean to say that you are like him too.”

“Gods no,” Hecate breathed.

Hades was horrified. Tears piled in his eyes and his brow cinched when he felt them. A few fell as he shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s kind of sweet seeing you like this,” his companion said. “I can tell you used to want to be good, to be different than Kronos. It’s too bad it didn’t last.”

“Wha-what have I d-done?” Hades mourned, his question a whisper. The tears, the frosting on his lip, the bruise on his cheek, made Persephone wildly protective. The Dread Queen reared. She needed to get him home, to take his face in her hands and tell him that he has done nothing wrong.

“You will remember when I need you to,” they said. “When I am the one who judges you.”

Hades tilted his head, chest rising and falling more quickly. “Ha-have I h-hurt p-people?” His tone was horrified.

“Yes,” was the answer. “But I’m going to make it right. Do you trust me to make it right?”

Hades studied them, then the cupcake in front of him. He nodded.

“Do you trust me to come for you when it’s time to make it right?” they asked.

He nodded again.

“And no matter what anyone says, you’ll remember that you’re Kronos’ wicked son?”

Hades winced and more tears fell. He nodded.

“Well, I’m glad we had this chat. I have your dog, by the way. He’s been asleep since I got him, but funny thing is he can’t remember anything now that he's awake.”

Hades looked up again and there was that spark, even if it just lasted for a second.

“Don’t worry. He’s safe with me. But in the meantime, since you trusted him like you now trust me, I suppose you can call me Cerberus. Until I tell you otherwise.”

The video ended.

“Gods,” Hecate hissed.

An image came through next. It was a selfie of a weeping Hades looking up at the phone camera beside … Minthe.


	17. Edge of a Cliff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned how awesome all of you are? Love the comments! To make up for my absence over the past few days, here's an extra long chapter and a treat at the end I made just for you. Yes, tried my hand at fan art (in Smythe's style). Let me know if you want to see more!

Persephone fizzed to every breakfast shop she could think of, frantically searching for Hades. Panic seared her chest, a deep pain pulsating with each heartbeat. Hecate had rushed out of the house before her, desperate as well. At least all of them had split up to find him.

Except for Ares. He stayed with her. Not that he was being any help.

“I dunno,” he said as he fizzed with her to another shop. People turned to look at them, startled. Persephone felt winded, hyperventilating. She looked back at those roaming the street and searched their faces, frantic. Hades wasn’t here either.

“This is different,” Ares said, not once lifting his head to help her find Hades.

“How is this different?” She turned on him, looking up into those calculating, angry eyes for answers. “Minthe has him – I don’t know how, I ripped her to pieces – and he remembers nothing. He doesn’t remember what she’s already done to him!”

“This isn’t Minthe,” Ares said, turning her phone around, forcing her to see that disgusting photograph of Hades crying and that nymph leering next to her. The crimson river nymph had her face pressed up beside Hades’, dark eyes penetrating the camera lens, strands of hair bleeding out across her cheek. Persephone gave Ares an irritated shove and fizzed them to another shop. More startled Underworld bystanders jumped away as they materialized, some shouting at them to travel like normal beings.

Ares blinked at her, releasing a huff as if the jumping from location to location was finally starting to exhaust him. Good.

“First, if it was Minthe, why would she tell him to call her Cerberus?” he asked. “There is no reason. And second, look.” He held up the phone again with her next to Hades.

Persephone grit her teeth and took the phone from him, giving it a closer study. Minthe did seem different, but just in the way she held herself. Instead of clinging to Hades, she was simply beside him. She even had her body turned away from him, like she didn’t actually want to touch him. And rather than pride at having him, or lust at being near him, she stared into the camera with a grim mouth and anger in her eyes.

“So she seems off, but that is still her face,” Persephone argued.

“Or someone wearing her face,” Ares said. “Most likely the same someone who wore Cerberus’ face.”

“So this is just another mask on the faceless god?” she asked, feeling cold and dizzy.

“Some gods can do that,” he said. “You know Hera has on your behalf. I’m not saying this is Hera, by the way. I’m just saying this isn’t Minthe.”

Persephone felt her panic shift and thought back to the faceless god and their whip, their relentlessness. She moved to lean against a brick wall, needing help standing.

“Besides, can’t you smell that?” Ares asked and she watched him sniff the air like some kind of war hound, grinning with so many of his vicious teeth. “The air is stiffer than before, thicker. Minthe was terrible, but I think the faceless one used her to torment him and now … they have something else in mind for Hades.”

“…To judge him?” Persephone asked. “He’s a god. He’s the king. There’s nothing else they can do to him.”

“The strategy is different,” Ares said. “We may not see where it’s going, but the faceless one is rampaging toward it. They are angry….”

Persephone’s knees trembled. She needed sleep. She needed Hades back and himself again, the protective and vengeful god-king that chomped cigars and spoiled her rotten. She looked back at the selfie of him with the faceless one, searched his broken expression, and steeled her nerves again. She failed to protect him from Minthe.

She would not fail to protect him this time.

“Persephone?”

She jumped and turned to find a nymph in an apron standing near her, leaning forward with a hand out like he wasn’t sure how to get her attention but didn’t want to touch her. She straightened and Ares moved beside her like a fuming tank. The merchant slid back from their frowns. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder with a gulp.

“You need to see what I have in the back room,” he said quietly, glancing around the narrow street.

“Why?” Ares asked. “What do you have in the back room?”

The merchant gulped again and twisted his hands on his apron like they were sweating. “The king,” he said, eyes bugging out like he couldn’t believe it.

Persephone leapt forward, ready to tear his face off in case it was just another mask, but the merchant moved with her as if he was glad she was finally going with him. He rushed them into his store – the same breakfast shop from the videos, just more crowded, she realized. He didn’t stop at the counter, stepping around it and taking them behind the curtain.

And there Hades sat in the corner on the floor, listening intently as a child read her book to him. Persephone’s heart melted and she threw out an arm, stopping the merchant and Ares from going any farther.

Hades looked up and frowned. He put down an arm as if to stand, but Persephone knew he was just blocking them from hurting the child, as if he had lost any and all trust in … her. The merchant pushed past her, motioning to what must have been his daughter.

“Agatha,” the merchant called, waving for her to join him, then smiled at Hades. “Your Majesty, your family is here to help.”

Hades squinted and didn’t move. Neither did Agatha. She looked up at Hades, then at Persephone.

"Are you going to marry him and be our queen?” the girl asked.

Hades’ eyes popped at that and he gave the girl a look like he ate something sour. Persephone frowned at him now, but just for a moment. She knelt in front of them, daring the truth. Nothing else had been helpful anyway, so what option did she really have?

“Yes,” she told the girl.

Hades stared. Intense. Suspicious.

"Are you going to be nicer to him than the red one?” Agatha flipped a hand.

“We saw him with … her,” the merchant filled in. “The nymph didn’t seem to be hurting him at the time, but … look at him,” he whispered now, as if he didn’t want Hades to hear, “what has she done to him? It scared us. Agatha hasn’t left his side since I brought him in. She keeps feeding him like he’s a new pet. We take in strays.” The merchant covered his mouth to stop himself from speaking.

Persephone studied Hades and the baklava crumbs on the tiny plate sitting next to his bare feet. Ichor dripped from the bandages around his head and she could see the sweatshirt was sticking to him, patched with wet spots from the ichor dampening his chest and back. He held her gaze, brows heavy and sinking shadows over his eyes. Even injured and unsure of who he really was, she felt the power in him.

Good.

“And where is that nymph now?” Ares asked the merchant. “What happened when you brought him back here?”

“She let us take him. I’ve already called the tip line. You know, the one all over the news, the one to call if we see him or know his whereabouts.” The merchant beckoned his daughter to join him again. Still, she didn’t. “So Underworld authorities should be here soon, but it’s good you’re here first. I think they would scare him.” The merchant leaned closer to Ares, lifting a hand as if sharing a secret. “I don’t think he knows who he is.”

“So where is your ring?” Agatha asked Persephone, leaning against Hades’ arm to try getting a look at her hands.

Persephone held Hades’ darkening stare, heart racing, encouraged by how still he sat as if he needed answers to the child’s questions too. She held out her hand to Agatha, angling it just right so Hades got a good look too.

“That’s huge,” Agatha breathed, leaning even farther against Hades to get a better look at the sparkling black rock on Persephone’s finger.

Hades looked at it from down his nose.

“What is it?” Agatha asked. “It’s so sparkly.”

Persephone smiled at Hades. “It’s a shiny rock.”

“Doesn’t it have a name?”

"That is it’s name,” Persephone said.

Hades eyes were bright, looking up at her.

“So do you love him?” Agatha asked and Hades withdrew his arm from in front of the child as if he needed to shield himself now.

Persephone wanted to put a hand on his leg, make contact to comfort him, to let him know she was never going away, but kept her hands to herself. He didn’t look like he wanted to be touched.

“I love him more than anything,” Persephone said.

Agatha “awwwed” while Hades turned his face down and when he did the room tilted like she had been hit with vertigo. She could have sworn she saw a shade roll across one of the walls and the merchant and Ares must have too. The nymph shoved forward and grabbed Agatha, who protested. Ares stomped forward then too, crouching by Hades who was peering at Persephone with red, hateful eyes.

She didn’t understand it. She tried not to cry.

"Breathe,” Ares growled at Hades. “Calm down.”

“What’s wrong?” Persephone asked, a lump in her throat. She needed Hades to stop looking at her like that. She didn’t know what she did wrong.

“I d-don’t need to ca-calm down,” Hades said and smoke began to waft through the room, crossing between them. Red glinted in his eyes and another shade flipped past. “I n-need you to stop tr-trying so hard. You d-don’t love me. Some-someone like y-you would never d-do that.”

“What?” Persephone couldn’t help herself. She reached out, cupping his face, ignoring the sharp teeth, the hiss as if she hurt him. He pushed her hands away. The smell of wood smoke grew stronger.

“Help!” The merchant was screaming. “Fire in the street!”

“Put out the flames,” Ares growled at Hades.

Hades finally looked away from Persephone. The moment his gaze landed on Ares, the god’s hair caught fire.

It was the last straw for the God of War. He roared, grabbing Hades with both hands and fizzed away with a terrible bang. Persephone sat there, horrified and heartbroken. She hadn’t thought it was possible to hate the faceless god more than she did, but she was wrong. The faceless one had twisted Hades so much in body and mind that he felt isolated now even among family … even with her.

The Underworld authorities arrived, and she stepped out of the store only to see every shop along both sides of the street were on fire. Except the merchant’s. The nymph and his daughter huddled just inside the store from the flames around them and Persephone stayed behind to make sure their livelihood wasn’t destroyed, making promises to the merchant that he would be not only reimbursed for the smoke damage but rewarded for recovering the king.

As she spoke to him, she felt numb and watched the smoke float down the street. She felt like she floated with it.

\----

Persephone didn’t know when she sat down or how much time passed, but the stone bench was solid. She needed to hold onto it to ground herself because her whole world had been so upended and the love of her life so tortured … she felt herself starting to break. Big, spreading cracks in her reality were everywhere. The frustration of not knowing how to protect Hades, how to fix any of this, made her want to scream.

“He wants to believe you, you know.”

She jumped.

Eros sat next to her, the rose-colored god looking very much out of place amid the smoke and shadows of the Underworld. The charred shops behind him made it even more surreal to see him with her.

“Eros.” She flopped against him. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m hurt that you didn’t ask for my help!” He was so dramatic. She looked up to see the God of Love clutch his chest, as if his heart was wounded. He peeked at her and sobered a bit. “Seriously though. Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t think you could help,” she said.

“Your fiancé gets threatened and you don’t think I can help protect the best love story Olympus has seen in a generation?” He snorted. “Love is my job! Especially when it comes to fighting for it.” He elbowed her gently. “And congratulations, by the way. Why didn’t you tell me he got on one knee?”

“We just wanted to be alone for a while after the engagement and then all of this happened so fast,” she said and buried her face in his jacket. “And I didn’t want to drag anyone else into this who might get hurt. Your dad has been so good through all of this, though he might be bald now.”

"What?”

She peeked up at him. “Hades set his hair on fire.”

“Mom won’t like that,” Eros said slowly and took in the destroyed buildings around them with new understanding.

Persephone sighed. Eros leaned his head on hers.

“Eros,” she whispered. “Why did he get so angry? I told him I loved him….”

“I know. I felt you confess it to him again all the way in Olympus,” Eros said. “I might not have all the details of what is going on in poor Hades’ mind, but when he started burning things it’s because he is confused and scared. And he wanted to scare you away. He’s trying to protect you … even if he didn’t believe you … even if he wanted to believe you.”

Persephone sat up to look at her friend.

“He didn’t believe me?” she asked and Eros shook his head.

They sat together in silence for a moment before Eros spread his arms along the back of the bench and cleared his throat.

“I’ve seen the news and heard a little from Dad about what’s gone on,” Eros said. “But Perse … what’s the whole story?”

Persephone started from the beginning with Minthe’s stalking, the escalating tests, the abduction, then finally the rape. Eros wept with her and then grinned grimly when she described what she did to Minthe. Understanding filled his eyes and he leaned back when she told him what happened next when the faceless god kicked Hades into the Lethe River.

“That explains a lot,” Eros said.

“But that’s not all of it.” She handed him her phone and pointed for him to play the videos.

By the end, he covered his mouth with one hand, shaking his head. Silence fell between them again.

“So he thinks he’s like his father, doesn’t know what he’s done or who he has hurt,” Eros said, tracking the ash that floated by. “He doesn’t trust the people at the house because,” he gave her a pointed look, “you all botched that up. Really, you should have called me. His mind is a mess, but his heart is still there … he is still him.”

Hearing those words did more than sting. Hot tears blurred her vision and the ash in the air made trying to hold them back impossible.

“What do I do, Eros?” she asked, knotting a hand in his shirt, feeling like a stupid village girl. “I can’t let him get hurt again. I just don’t know what to do.” She watched some people wander by, a few pointing at the destruction up and down the road. Reporters had arrived too, the plastic snap of cameras amping her anxiety. “Every time I think I’m doing something right, it makes everything worse.”

Eros wrapped his hand around hers, but she couldn’t look at him.

"Number one, we need him to feel safe,” Eros said. “If we can’t do that, he will leave again and then no one can protect him. Or at least try to protect him.”

“But how do we do that?” she asked, finally peeking at him through her hair. It was overgrown, tangled with dead leaves, smeared gray with the smoke. “How do we make him feel safe?”

Eros’ cheeks glistened with tears, lines bracketing his mouth in concentration.

“We start by being there with him,” he said.

\----

As soon as they appeared back at the house, Persephone winced at the sudden screaming. Zeus was yelling at Hecate, pointing at a brown toad that croaked like a bullhorn and stomped between them like some angry, sticky mud creature. Then in the hallway, Ares and Poseidon were having a vocal scream-off of their own. The dogs didn’t help either, adding to the chaos with manic barking. Except Big John who hunched in the corner trying to cover his ears with his giant white paws.

“Good Gaia,” Eros breathed. “Where is Hades?”

Persephone’s heart sped up and she hurried past Zeus and Hecate, rushing down the hallway. Ares and Poseidon didn’t acknowledge them as she stepped over debris piles and flew into the bedroom. When she didn’t see him, she darted into the bathroom.

And there he was. She felt instantly guilty for not being here sooner.

He sat on a stool, the sweatshirt with Minthe’s face gone, trying to peel his soiled bandages off. Seeing him alone, ichor-bunched hair hanging in his face, physically hurt her. He pulled the bandages off strip by strip, biting back cries of pain, trying to keep quiet. His hands trembled as he did, his half-exposed back to her. The wounds looked irritated, angry at not being cleaned sooner.

Eros clutched her arm at the sight and when she turned to look at him, he was quickly wiping tears away and stepping forward like he had just entered a primary classroom where the kids were waking up from naps.

“Hello,” he said softly, hands clasped in front of himself as he moved around Hades, leaning down to smile at him.

Hades wasn’t impressed. By what Persephone could see in the mirror, he didn’t raise his head, but instead glanced at him briefly, shadows blending with the discolored bruise on his cheek. After that small acknowledgment, Hades went back to taking off his bandages. Persephone felt frozen in place, desperately wanting to do it for him but not wanting to anger him again. The last thing they needed was for him to set the house on fire.

“I’m Eros.” Eros pressed his hands to his chest with a grin, pink hair bobbing on his forehead. “I hear you’re Aidoneus.”

Hades pulled off a bandage that audibly ripped scabs away. Fresh ichor bled from the whip lash torn across his beautiful skin. Eros winced.

“That doesn’t look fun,” he said. “Can I help you?”

Hades set his hands down, breathing labored, and raised his face to Eros with a very familiar coolness. It made Persephone smile. Eros didn’t like it though, standing up straight with a jerk.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing in here?” Ares barged past Persephone, smelling strongly of charred hair. She crinkled her nose and pressed a hand to her mouth. Hades caught her gaze in the mirror. His eyes turned bright red.

Ares grabbed Eros, shoving him back to the door. Then he pointed at Hades.

“This devil is not the same friendly great-uncle you remember,” Ares shouted, smoke blowing from his nostrils. “He is not some mindless child for you to play with either, to coax memories out of like some damn chick flick. Now go home before he decides to shove an arrow up your ass.”

Hades glared at Ares, who turned on him with crimson flaring across his body.

“No more madness from you,” Ares shouted.

“What happened?” Persephone hurried forward, squeezing between them. Ares grabbed her and then Hades was there, shoving the God of War back. When he hit the wall, the marble engulfed his arms like it was suddenly made of liquid, trapping him in an instant. Ares screamed and Hades collapsed, but he was grinning, as if he was proud of himself for getting Ares’ hands off her. She looked at Eros, who was smiling too. It was a good sign.

But then Ares was ripping his way out of the wall, crumbling the stone around him with an almighty roar. He flung himself onto Hades, getting a fistful of bandages and ripping them in one go. Hades couldn’t bite back the cry of pain then.

“Dad!” Eros shouted.

“I told you to get away from him.” Poseidon appeared with a splash, all the faucets in the bathroom turning on high. Faster than would have been normal, the bathroom flooded and Poseidon lifted his hands. Water slammed into Ares, spinning him into the mirror. It shattered with a crash and white dust. Hades lifted his arms to shield his head.

Persephone focused on Hades, crouching in the water next to him. Hades tensed when she touched his shoulder, but otherwise didn’t move.

“Get him out of here,” Eros leaned in to tell her, though had to shout to be heard over Ares and Poseidon. “Take him to Olympus – to Zeus’ home. I’ll follow with the rest, but they need some calming down.”

Persephone wasn’t sure what expression was on her face, but Eros nodded as if she needed some encouraging.

“It’ll be fine,” he said, urging her with a wave.

Persephone turned back to Hades, water up to his waist and her chest. She gripped his shoulder and the chaos of the flooded bathroom dissolved to petals, then to white and gold. The difference was shocking and blinding. She saw through her own squinting Hades covering his eyes, trembling where he lay on the white marble entry. The quit throughout the house was deafening. After a moment she heard his labored breathing, the gentle shake to it that told her he was in pain. The soft dripping of water from their clothes steadied her and she got on her knees beside him, daring to push hair out of his face.

Hades glanced up at her, holding her gaze. She saw his confusion and … something else.

“I’m sorry,” Persephone said.

He tilted his head, not understanding.

“I think everyone lost their minds,” she laughed now, because it did seem that way. She took a deep breath, feeling a little clearer herself. Gentle fingers brushed her hand resting on her folded knee. She looked down and saw him inspecting her engagement ring.

“Uncle Hades!” a little voice squealed.

Hebe raced down the sweeping staircase beside them, gold hair flipping around her cherub face. When Hades looked up at her, bewildered, the little goddess froze. She started crying instantly, running with more urgency, arms outstretched as if she needed him to comfort her, to tell her that he would be fine.

He opened his arms as she reached him, blinking hard as the little one rammed into him and held on, ignoring the ichor and water.

“Persephone,” Hebe called from against his chest, squeezing fingers around air for her to join them. Hades leaned away from her at first as she obeyed, but then allowed Persephone to finally wrap her arms around him too.

“Well, look at that.” Poseidon approached them, water dripping from his soaked hair. He took a deep breath on the Olympus air too and Persephone saw his eyes brighten.

"Eros!” Ares appeared, charred bits of hair sticking to his scalp as water ran down his face. He spun around but didn’t find his son. “Damnit!” He spotted Persephone piled with Hades and Hebe then, some of the red receding from across his face.

“-if you think you can get away this with,” Zeus roared, stumbling out of a patch of fog holding the bullfrog. It croaked. Zeus stared at them.

“Hi, Daddy,” Hebe greeted, not letting Hades or Persephone go. Hades looked around at his brother, who waved a hand. The fog belched and rings of light spun, lifting it from Zeus’ fingers. The sparks deposited Hera on the floor. She hiccupped.

“Either way, we’re all out of the Underworld now,” Hecate said, an arm still latched in Eros’ grip as he dragged the last of them to Olympus.

“Some fresh air for everyone,” Eros said. “And a place to recuperate that doesn’t have drywall everywhere and fumes from a forgetful river. I think you all forgot basic decency, for starters.”

Poseidon hung his head down and Ares plopped on the floor beside Hera.

“Hebe, let’s get your adorable uncle to the guest room,” Eros said excitedly, snatching her from Hades’ chest.

“Can we clean him?” Hebe asked, lip curled. “He’s sticky.”

Hades laughed.

They all froze and stared at him.

“Wh-what?” Hades asked, staring back.

\----

To say Eros was right in getting them out of the house was an understatement. Persephone let him gloat and go on and on about how much of a mess it had been. Hecate promised to have it cleaned and the Lethe River sealed off again, and to feed the dogs once she moved them to her place. Hera disappeared – out of embarrassment for her behavior and being turned into a bullfrog by Hecate for not leaving the Underworld – and Persephone wasn’t mad at her absence. In fact, Ares kept his distance too, except to organize his soldiers outside on the grounds.

The only ones near Hades now were herself and Eros, and sometimes Hebe. The brothers hovered nearby. She would catch a glimpse of a worried Poseidon at the doorway more often than a possessive Zeus, but they both took turns peeking in at him and then hurrying off muttering to each other. She didn’t know what they were planning or where they were in finding the faceless one.

All she knew was that Hades was looking better.

The change in venue, a bath, and some sleep had done them all some good.

She watched Hades sit between Hebe and Eros. He looked surprised by their affection but did nothing to deter it. Hebe stood on a chair putting braids in his hair while Eros filed Hades’ nails, chattering about some nonsense his mom was up to. Persephone caught snippets of “terrible diet” and “she’s a goddess, like … what the fuck,” but was too busy enjoying her relief. It was the first moment resembling peace in almost two weeks, especially in the last few days. She knew it was probably wrong to ignore what the other kings were doing about the situation, but for now she couldn’t pull herself away from just being … close by.

It was worth every stolen glance he gave her, as if he needed to make sure she was still there.

The tenderness Eros showed Hades also made it clear how she should have been as soon as he was freed from Minthe, how they all should have been. Just there. Showing gentle movements, taking care of him, keeping conversation light.

The only difference in his behavior now wasn’t just the flash of frustration or anger when Zeus or Ares appeared, but his silence.

And it scared her knowing the faceless one hadn’t made a sound either. It felt like standing on a cliff, the dirt crumbling away beneath their feet, and they were all just waiting to fall.


	18. A Slow Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all spoil me. Thank you for the comments! This one is a little short, but I did some more fan art (something to help all of us fast passers get to Saturday haha)!

His wounds were healing slowly. But at least they were healing.

It was their second day at Zeus and Hera’s home and the continued peace was comforting. Persephone enjoyed Hebe singing to herself as she colored on the floor of the bathroom near where she stood behind a shirtless Hades. Persephone gently cleaned the whip marks on his back. She felt him watching her in the mirror, it being the first time he let her help with this. Until now, only Eros had any luck convincing him that he couldn’t take care of his wounds on his own.

Persephone met his gaze in the mirror and smiled, wanting to reach out and touch the blush that bloomed over his cheeks just before he looked down again. His freshly soaped hair fell in damp, curling strands over his face. He was so handsome it hurt sometimes.

Resisting the urge to run her fingers through his soft curls, she refocused on his wounds. The ripped skin looked painful, all dark gold slashes. At least they no longer wept ichor. As she dabbed cool salve on one strip of gouged flesh, she closed her eyes and tried to heal him. He flinched away from her and she stopped immediately, meeting his fearful stare with regret.

“I was trying to heal you,” she said softly as Eros popped his head in, like he felt a change in the atmosphere. His sudden presence eased Hades a little. When Hades saw him, the tension in his shoulders dropped. Persephone moved to stand in front of him, trying to be as comforting as her rose-colored friend who now leaned against the doorframe.

Chewing on a lip, she blossomed a small yellow flower in her fingers and handed it to Hades. He took it slowly, a concentrated crease in his brow.

“I can also heal wounds,” she said.

He glanced up at her through his fallen locks, holding the flower close to his nose, silent. Always silent. He hadn’t spoken a word since first arriving to the house and it worried her, but one thing at a time.

She gestured to the bruise on his cheek, a crude remnant of Minthe. He raised his brows and touched the mark. When he nodded, her heart soared.

Moving slowly so not to startle him, she reached up and brushed her fingertips against the bruise. She seethed at the handprint and urged her powers to erase it, to give him that at least. And unlike the rest of his wounds, given to him by the Kronos knife or weapons with the knife crafted into them, this began to change. The bruise lit white and pink, making him close his eyes. Then it was gone.

She smiled and ran the backs of her fingers against his beautiful skin, loving that a bit of the abuse he’d endured was removed. Or at least the physical piece of it.

Hades looked past her to the mirror and moved her hand closer to his face, palm against his cheek. Big fingers squeezed hers gently, a silent “thank you.”

“See, the tiny goddess isn’t so scary,” Eros cheered.

Hades actually laughed. Persephone relished the sound, the deep tone, the curl of his lips, how it rumbled in his chest. She resisted the urge to throw herself at him and just hold him, instead settling for the smile they shared.

\----

Persephone sat on the floor coloring with Hebe in the front room of the mansion, watching Eros act as physical therapist. It was adorable, really.

“You have to keep those muscles moving,” Eros said, chipper as he helped Hades stretch his back and arms. He was gentle, not pushing it far or else reopen the wounds. There was something comforting in how he encouraged Hades, who listened to his instructions. He was stretching one arm over his head and Persephone caught his glance in her direction. A tiny smirk appeared on his lips.

“Stop flirting and keep stretching,” Eros happily chanted, stretching alongside him. “Don’t bend too far, unless you want Persephone to see you shirtless again. But she’d have to redo all that work from earlier with those bandages.”

Hades was blushing, easing up on the stretch.

“Why can’t they flirt, Eros?” Hebe asked, frowning at the coloring in front of her. It was a drawing of her brother Ares, who had the most exaggerated frown Persephone had ever seen. It was the most true-to-life picture she’d seen of him.

“He has to focus on getting better,” Eros said, tapping Hades to switch arms.

“But they’re going to get married,” Hebe said like it was the most obvious thing in existence. “They’ve done grosser things than flirt. I’ve seen it.”

Persephone blushed this time, remembering with a jolt the make-out session and heavy petting they were caught doing in a closer during one family dinner. It was embarrassing, though apparently only to her and Hades. No one else cared besides some loud whistling, cat-calling, and a loud Hebe who just kept repeating “ew!”

It felt like ages ago now.

“I’d rather they flirt than do that again,” Hebe kept going.

Persephone looked at Hades with huge eyes, biting back a laugh. He was blushing deeply now, eyes just as wide.

“Hebe,” Eros hissed.

“What, Eros?” Hebe said, flipping her hair in a very Hera-esque way. “You remember! You kept telling Persephone to change what she was doing with her hand when we all caught them. I still don’t get what you meant though.”

Persephone let out a heavy sigh, trying to block the memory out. Hades was grinning now though.

“Oh, stop it, all three of you,” Eros chided and poked Hades in the chest. “Time for a stroll around the house anyway, mister.”

Persephone watched the two walk out of the room, her laugh escaping when Hades looked back at her. He was smiling large enough now she saw his dimples.

\----

That evening, they followed what was becoming routine. Eros helped Hades clean up and change, then went as far as tucking him into bed. Even if it was starting to be routine, Hades was horrified every time and Persephone would laugh.

“Hebe, it’s way past your bedtime!” Hera shouted down the hall, the first Persephone had heard from her in days.

“Night Uncle Hades.” Hebe hopped up to plant a loud kiss on his head before bounding out of the room. Eros patted Hades on the chest.

“Night Uncle Hades,” he repeated, then sobered for a moment, eyes sharp. “And can you tell me the last thing you remember … before waking up in the Underworld?”

Eros asked every evening. So far, Hades hadn’t responded and they took it as no change. Persephone waited, holding her breath.

“The war,” he said, voice gravely.

Persephone’s heart sped up. It wasn’t much of a jump in memory, but it was the first sign of progress.

“That’s good,” Eros said and Hades squinted at him. “Well, the war wasn’t good, but it’s something. One thing at a time. And now, it’s time for sleep.” He waved at Persephone on his way out, shutting the door.

And just like every night, Persephone fanned her throw blanket around her, curling her legs into the recliner near the bed. Hades was watching her, less confused tonight than before, but still uncertain.

She smiled at him, his red eyes glowing as they usually did in the dark here in Olympus.

“Wh-why do you stay?” he asked and she sat up, excited he was finally speaking.

Persephone fiddled with the edge of the blanket, choosing her words carefully.

“I need you,” she said, searching for how best to describe how she felt for him without scaring him with another ‘I love you.’ “I need to know you’re safe… Am I making you uncomfortable?”

He studied her.

“No,” he said and the gentle way he watched her relax into the chair felt familiar. It made her heart skip and she knew, really knew, that the Hades who brought her donuts, who watched old movies with her, who teased her until they were both laughing hard enough to cry, was in there. And he was trying to find his way back to her.

\----

“You remember this.” Eros was staring at Hades, who successfully flipped another pancake.

The boastful smirk Hades gave him made Persephone laugh. Hades gave her a playful nudge with an elbow as Eros pouted.

“So, cooking you remember,” Eros declared. “I’m making you cook everyone dinner tonight. You’re the only one in this house, other than me and Persephone, who knows how not to burn food!” He shouted the last bit so everyone throughout the mansion could hear.

No one responded, but Hades and Persephone were snickering.

“At least you two are amused,” Eros grunted at them.

“Do I smell breakfast?” Poseidon slowly walked into the kitchen, dark bags under his eyes. Persephone wondered what he and the others had been doing to catch the faceless one, bothered by the exhausted way he moved. As if sensing this, Poseidon winked at her – like that was enough to say “don’t worry!”

Eros watched Poseidon with suspicion, but didn’t try stopping him as he joined Hades at the stove. It was the first time he allowed Poseidon this close to Hades, the only one of the brothers to even attempt being near him. Zeus would only ever show up as if to confirm that Hades was still there and breathing, then he would leave.

“Are these blueberries?” Poseidon asked, plucking one from a crystal bowl on the counter and popping it into his mouth.

Eros folded his arms, leaning forward as if ready to grab Poseidon and maneuver him elsewhere.

“Mom liked these,” Poseidon said, chewing.

Hades nodded, pouring more pancake batter into the skillet. Poseidon dropped blueberries onto it and the two settled into a comfortable silence. Persephone shared an impressed glance with Eros, who unfolded his arms and leaned on the island counter, thoughtful. As Persephone watched Hades and Poseidon, she wondered if this is how they were back during the war. Comfortable and quiet around each other, a level of understanding between them that she doubted they shared with anyone else.

“Why can’t you just tell me?” Ares’ voice carried in from the hallway, angry and explosive. They all looked up. “You want me to leave my post to go over these ancient-”

A door slammed and whatever else Ares shouted was muted. Eros shoved off the island counter and marched to hallway, looking down it, muscles bunched. Persephone saw Hades turn back to the pancake, flipping it again, while Poseidon stared past him to Eros. The worry etched deep on Poseidon’s face, tension lining his eyes.

“Poseidon,” Persephone called, waving him over. He brought the blueberries with him, or tried to before Hades reached grabbed his arm with a shake of his head. Poseidon sighed, putting them on the counter and taking a handful instead. When he sidled next to her, she leaned in. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

Poseidon pushed away in an instant, tossing all of the blueberries into his mouth. He shook his head with the same firm jerk that Hades had a moment ago and slid past Eros, leaving the kitchen behind. Hades watched him leave and she caught the glint of worry before he focused on the food again.

\----

Persephone had hoped Poseidon would join them for breakfast, but he never came back to the kitchen. He just disappeared into the conference room with Ares and Zeus. Everyone once in a while as they ate, they would hear shouting from the room but nothing clear ever came through.

Now she stood at the sink with Hades, scrubbing dishes in the soapy water. Eros and Hebe were playing some boardgame at the counter behind them, their laughter making the mid-morning warmth even more peaceful. She glanced at Hades, loving how his sweater was shoved up to his elbows, his forearms wet from scrubbing dishes. The sunlight coming in through the window in front of them glinted off the bit of scars peeking out of his scrunched-up sleeves. He looked like himself. Though she knew he was still wrapped in bandages beneath the sweater, and his neck was still lined from the whips, there was a brightness to his face again.

He glanced over at her, a brow raising at her attention. She turned back to the dishes, biting a lip as she felt him staring at her now.

Hades reached through the suds, lightly picking up her hand from the water. He studied the engagement ring, a pained but curious expression shadowed by a tangle of fallen hair.

Persephone floated closer, feeling Eros’ chaperone eyes on her.

“I love you,” she whispered into Hades’ ear. “I will wait for you. I don’t care how long it takes.”

Hades’ brow was tight as he leaned his forehead to hers, eyes squeezed shut. She lifted her other hand, tilting his face to hers. She pressed a kiss to his lips, something sweet, willing him to understand everything she wished she could say.

When she pulled away, he searched her eyes, serious and focused. He pulled her closer and her heart pounded.

“Easy now,” Eros said at the same time Hebe let out a disgusted “eeew!”

Hades laughed, his side smile doing things to her that she hadn’t felt in too long as he released her and turned back to the dishes.

Glass shattered. Persephone jumped, afraid he dropped a dish in the sink, but when she turned she didn’t expect the blur crashing in through the window. The object punched into Hades with enough force to knock him to the ground. Then she saw the arrow, a large one, sticking up out of his chest. It gored itself straight through his body, the arrowhead dripping ichor in his back, having cut its way through his sweater and bandages.

Before she could move, Eros’ wings ripped through his shirt and he was launching himself out through the window. She spotted his own bow and arrow in clenched fists, the red in his eyes so similar to his father’s wrath.

Then she heard Zeus screaming from the conference room, his shared agony with Hades growing louder as someone threw up the door.

“Hebe, run to your dad,” Poseidon shouted, bursting into the kitchen. He grabbed the little one from her stool, where she sat sobbing, and pushed her toward the conference room.

Persephone crouched next to Hades, hating the sound of him trying to gasp through the pain and the shock. She studied the large bolt piercing straight through his body, knowing that getting it out was going to be even worse.

“Get away from the windows,” Poseidon ordered, stepping next to them. The moment he did though, a second arrow soared in. It missed goring Poseidon by mere inches, instead slicing through his arm and clattering against the kitchen tiles, which cracked.

Hades flinched and Persephone saw a wound appear on his arm. She looked at Poseidon, who crouched on his other side, holding his arm and looking between it and the identical slice on Hades.

“Shitshitshit,” Poseidon hissed, giving her a long glance full of dread. Now they knew what happened when one of the other brothers was hurt.

Persephone grit her teeth and rose enough to peer through the window, still mostly protected by the counter. No sooner had she looked outside though did she see Eros drop. He fell from the sky, wings bent backwards, skewered with arrows.

She didn’t see him hit the ground, but she felt it.


	19. Intent to Punish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I said how much I love all of you! Your comments make me laugh. I love entertaining you. Here's another chapter. Cheers!

A shockwave hit the mansion. Persephone dropped to the tiles as whatever remained of the kitchen window shattered, along with every other window along that side of the house. She heard the crush of glass echo down the hall, in other rooms, and a crying Hebe. She hoped Zeus was being a dad for once and protecting her.

Hades and Poseidon watched Persephone, questioning what just happened.

“Eros,” she said. “He fell.”

Poseidon grit his teeth, muscles in his jaw bunching as he gripped Hades under his arms to drag him out of the kitchen. But Hades pushed him away, a red glint smearing his vision.

“We need to get you out of here,” she said, grabbing his hands so he stopped fighting his brother.

Hades’ gaze fell on her, crimson having taken over his eyes. Shadows dripped from his brow and she saw the dangerous god, the one everyone feared. He pulled his hands from hers and gripped the arrow that impaled his chest. With a roar, he pulled its length from his body. She cried with him, trying to stop him as the arrowhead worsened the wound on its way out, being pulled the wrong way from his chest cavity. She jerked away in horror as it burst from his skin, bright gold ichor spurting up and lathering his sweater.

“Stop it,” Poseidon said. “Don’t you even-”

When Persephone turned back around, Hades was on his feet, wielding the arrow as his skin continued to darken. Poseidon’s shouting turned into cursing and then Hades burst through the window.

“No!” Persephone tried to follow but couldn’t.

She looked down, horrified by the diamond encasing her feet – all the way to her knees. When she turned to Poseidon, she saw most of his body was encapsulated in sapphire.

Damn.

She couldn’t see what was happening, just held her breath trying to listen, horrified by the idea that this is exactly what the faceless god wanted. Hades on his own. Her only comfort was the fact that his recent memories were of him at war. At least he would know how to fight.

Shouting drifted in from outside. Lots of shouting … and screaming. She and Poseidon stared at each other, both trying to decipher what was happening.

A dark fog crawled along the floor. Poseidon’s eyes widened and Persephone sat up straighter.

“Hades?” she called. “…Aidoneus?”

A snap echoed through the kitchen and the diamond around her feet crumbled like white sand. Poseidon was set free as well and he was scrambling to his feet, fingers digging for purchase through the blue dust falling around him. Persephone followed suit, keeping low as she circled the island counter.

Hades sat next to Eros, sweating and wheezing through his agony and exhaustion. His skin rippled blue and black, as if he couldn’t hold the wrath. She saw the toll it took in his trembling muscles. Hades held her gaze, then turned to Eros, hair falling into his face.

She slid across the tiles to Eros’ side. Her friend was pierced by three of those large arrows, all through the chest. His wings were broken, feathers shivering as he tried to breathe. Arrows gored his wings as well, staining the pink downy in ichor.

Eros gripped her hand and nodded to Hades.

“Bad … ass,” Eros smiled.

“My gods,” Poseidon breathed.

Persephone looked around and saw him standing in front of the window. She slowly stood too and looked past him outside. Diamond jutted up from Hera’s garden … walls and walls of diamond. Ares’ soldiers milled around, their frustrated and slow pace telling her the faceless god was gone.

For now.

“The god was coming,” Eros said, turning her back around. “Didn’t get close though.” Eros patted Hades on the knee.

“They want him,” Poseidon said and pointed at the jagged crystal glinting against the sun, blinding. “This is why they’ve had to weaken him. No one could take him on without this kind of preparation. Even with his mind wiped and tortured, look at this shit.”

Poseidon sounded impressed, like a younger brother would. Persephone smiled at the green god, the light dancing off the crystals paling his complexion.

“Get cleaned up.” Zeus.

Persephone and the others turned to find him at the doorway, haggard and eyes hollowed by puffy bags of sleepless nights.

“Clean up and then we have to talk,” Zeus said.

“Wait a minute,” Poseidon warned him.

But Zeus was shaking his head. “My home was attacked. The triarchy was attacked. We can’t make it so easy next time.”

Poseidon stared after him as he left, then pointed at Persephone.

“Help Hades,” he said. “I’ll take care of Eros.”

“The hell you will.” Ares stormed in, shoving Hades aside to get to his son.

\----  
Hades’ new wound was gruesome, but as Persephone cleaned it she urged it to heal. Amazingly, it began to stitch together. Pink and white glowed through the ichor and Hades took a deep breath. She looked up at him, pleased to see him smiling.

“Must not have used the Kronos knife in the arrowhead,” Persephone said, wiping away the rest of the ichor from his now smooth skin. She ran a thumb over the place where it had been, marveling at how horrified she was at seeing him hurt again. It had just taken a moment to rip him from her side. She never wanted it to happen again.

As if feeling her anxiety, Hades ran his fingers along her jaw, tilting her head up. He studied her, then pulled her forward into his lap. She straddled him nervously, pained at the familiar heat that now surrounded her, the muscles that flexed against her.

“Thank you,” he said, tangling a hand in her hair and holding her still as he kissed her. She melted into his touch, opening her mouth to him. His tongue explored hers, tender. They parted to breathe, then met again, the wet sounds of their lips loud against the bathroom walls. Persephone ran her hands through his hair, not sure how far she should let them continue. Eros had warned her that moving too fast could make him remember everything, the shock of which could send him into hibernation. But as Hades gripped her closer, she felt his erection and moaned, forgetting what Eros said for a moment.

She rolled her hips and rubbed against him, loving how his eyes burned red for her again at the friction. She grinded harder, unbuttoning the front of her dress – stopping just before giving him unhindered access to her breasts. She clutched the top of her dress shut, kissing him again and rubbing on him one last time.

“Can’t move too fast,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his.

He cupped her face and studied her, then nodded.

“You’re the only person, the only part of my life, I care to remember,” he said. “However long it takes….”

She let the front of her dress go, wrapping her arms around his neck to kiss him again. He pulled her against him and she felt him rumble against her as her breasts pushed on his chest. He tilted her head to the side to bite her neck, kissing his way down to her shoulder. She watched him in awe as he licked one of her nipples, his tongue dragging across the raised nub. She memorized his face, the concentrated crease between his brows, how he never looked away from her as he took her nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it.

She knew he could probably feel how wet she was against him, humping against his lap again, but then she stilled herself and closed her eyes. As much as they wanted each other, sex now could mean losing him for years to something akin to a coma. It wasn’t worth it.

Picking up on her body language, Hades also stopped. She looked at him, loving him all the more fiercely. Even when he didn’t remember most things, he still understood consent.

Persephone kissed him gently and climbed off him.

“I love you,” she whispered in his ear, then stepped toward the door to find him a shirt.

“I love you,” she heard him whisper even more quietly, like he didn’t want her to hear. But she did and the smile it brought to her face was so big it hurt. He might not remember her yet, but knowing he loved her again regardless … she wanted to run back in there and give him everything.

But she kept walking, admiring her own restraint with a small laugh.  
\----  
The conference room where Zeus and Poseidon had been bunkered for the past few days was a mess. It smelled of old takeout food and empty containers littered the marble tabletop, with some even tossed to the floor. Adding to the chaos was one wall covered in pictures and notes.

Persephone glanced at Hades who settled into a chair next to her, the white shirt she picked out for him a little bit sheer. She could see his dark skin through it, which made her want to run her hands under it to find his scars. He reached over and squeezed her knee, nodding to a staring Eros who leaned toward them from across the table.

“What have you two been doing?” Eros asked.

She and Hades laughed at the same time, then peeked at each other. Eros clicked his tongue and shook his head.

Persephone could see that though Eros was sitting there mock-glaring at them, the skin around his eyes was tight with pain.

“How are you feeling?” she asked him, standing and reaching across the table for one of his hands.

“Oh, not at all like someone tried to turn me into a kabob,” he joked and his dad grumbled expletives next to him. Red smoke poured from Ares’ mouth whenever his lips parted even for a second.

Persephone focused on healing her friend, watching as light shone through his t-shirt and bandages. Then Eros sat up straight and ran his hands along his chest.

“Thanks, Perse,” he said as Ares gripped his shoulder and pulled at him to check his wounds. “Dad,” Eros shouted, “cut it out!”

Persephone let Ares worry over him, sinking back into her chair. Hades tucked some of her hair behind her ear, gentle, and she held his hand there.

“Everyone, pay attention to me,” Zeus shouted from the head of the table, standing in front of the wall of haphazard notes.

They all turned to him, but Hades kept a hand in her hair, playing with the locks and petals strewn throughout. Zeus rolled his eyes at them and then she caught Poseidon wagging his brows at Hades. Hades dropped his hand quickly and she glared at Poseidon for it.

“We might not know who this faceless one is, but we know they are more dangerous than we first thought,” Zeus said and Persephone felt herself get cold. Zeus pointed at Hades. “You pissed off the wrong person, brother.”

Zeus turned and smacked his hand against one of the photos pinned to the wall. It was some sort of key, but Persephone didn’t recognize it.

“It’s gone,” Zeus said.

“No.” Hera stood in the doorway, mascara running down her cheeks. When Persephone looked at her, Hera looked down, not meeting her gaze.

“What is it?” Persephone asked.

“You were supposed to have kept that with you.” Eros had his arms folded, red eyes matching Ares’. “That’s why everyone has the fucking saying ‘Only Zeus can-’”

“I thought it’d be safe where it was,” Zeus interrupted.

“What is it?” Persephone asked again, more insistent now.

“When they took the Kronos knife, they took this too,” Zeus said. “It isn’t a display item at the museum, it was locked away so how did I know to look for the fucking thing?”

“And what the fuck are we supposed to do about this?” Eros asked. “Can it just open-?”

“No, one of us has to be turning the key itself,” Zeus said. “They can’t do anything unless one of the triarchy allows it.”

Eros looked at Hades, who was just as confused as Persephone.

“A punishment,” Eros breathed. “The faceless one said they wanted to judge him and we all know what they really want is to punish him ... for something.”

Hades looked at Persephone for answers, but she had none.

“Someone explain,” she demanded.

Poseidon raised a hand, as if they were sitting in a classroom. “It’s the key to Kronos’ prison in Tartarus,” he said.

The chill raking over her grew stronger. She felt Hades freeze and his breathing pick up.

“So, the faceless one wants to do what?” she asked, reaching over and gripping Hade’s hands that were folded atop the table. She felt the Dread Queen stir again.

“We think they want to put Hades in with … him,” Zeus said and finally sat down.


	20. Family Values

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the absence! Work got a little wild. But thank you for the love and comments! I promise to update faster. We're nearing the climax. Maybe 10 or fewer chapters left. But then I'll have a surprise, so hang tight.

The anxiety that sank into Persephone’s veins put a lump in her throat that made it hurt to swallow. Her muscles tensed and the Dread Queen wanted out. She thought back to the story Hades had told her from the other side of a bookcase in what felt like a lifetime ago. The trauma he recounted, how his father had wanted him gone the moment he was born, then hunted him down on his sixth birthday just to eat him… That it might happen again made her start to shake.

Hades was getting up, drawing her attention as he moved to a trash bin in the corner. He dropped to his knees in front of it just in time, throwing up. Her chair dragged on the carpet as she rushed to him, turning to find Poseidon hurrying to him too. The understanding in his eyes, the pain, did not make her feel any better.

Eros was on his feet but turning his anger on Zeus. Who deserved it.

“This is why you needed to keep the key on you at all times!” Eros shouted.

Ares was nodding from his seat, lounged back because he must have been kept in the loop this whole time and already knew. Regardless, the red smoke rolling off him spoke volumes to how he felt, letting his son carry on shouting.

“Who in their right mind would ever want to open that one cell in Tartarus?” Zeus shouted back. “Who in their right mind would want to put one of us inside with Kronos?”

“They probably aren’t in their right fucking mind!” Eros kicked the table, jarring the old take-out containers. Hard pieces of rice bounced on one corner.

“One thing is certain,” Hera said, looking down at Zeus from behind lashes clumped with wet mascara. “Whoever this faceless one is, they weren’t there for the war with the titans … with him.” She nodded at Hades, who gripped the trash can with both hands still, shoulders trembling. “And they weren’t there to see Kronos. They would never think of opening that door if they knew what Kronos was capable of and would not think of throwing Hades back in if they had seen how he was when you freed him. Or how he fought after.”

“Well, it could be because of how he fought after.” Poseidon laughed, a small and uncomfortable sound. “That’s when people really got scared of him, when they saw him as someone who didn’t just look like our father. Don’t you remember how he was?” Poseidon grinned, impressed by whatever he replayed in his mind, not seeing the backhanded compliment for what it was.

“I mean, there is a reason we all thought he should rule the dead,” Zeus agreed quietly, eyes wide.

Persephone looked at Hades, how he bowed his head a little. From the glint in his haunted eyes, he must have remembered … some of it, at least.

“Either way, you two fought harder than any of us because you knew how badly Kronos needed to be put away.” Hera waved a hand at both Poseidon and Hades, then shoved a cigarette between her lips.  
“I fought hard too,” Zeus argued and pointed at his own chest, electricity crawling across his skin. “I’m the one who risked everything to free them so we could take our father down together! I didn’t want to be eaten next!”

Hera lit her cigarette, giving a “fuck-you” puff at her husband.

“You wouldn’t even have Hades to undress with your goddamn eyes if I hadn’t brought him back into this world,” Zeus said, the house rumbling and darkening beneath an accumulation of clouds. Hera raised an unimpressed brow.

Hades turned to look between them, horrified and confused. Persephone ran a hand through his hair, pressing her forehead to his cheek, wanting more than anything to slap Zeus and Hera. At least Hera was more behaved away from the fumes of the Lethe. Regardless, that even Zeus knew how she still felt about his brother was disturbing.

The Dread Queen wanted to mark her territory. She rolled for freedom, but Persephone fought her back with a shaky deep breath.

“So, was everything before this just to torture Hades?” Persephone asked, redirecting the conversation. Hera couldn’t look at her, just averted her eyes and puffed her cigarette smoke to the other side of the room. “If the faceless god wanted to shove him into the same cell as his father, then why bother doing anything else? They had him.” Persephone turned to Poseidon, who sat on the floor with them. “Minthe and the faceless one had him and instead of taking him to Tartarus, they….” She couldn’t finish that sentence. Hades tilted his head at her hesitation.

“If you hadn’t arrived when you did, I’m sure that would have been the next stop,” Ares said.

“And like I said earlier, they had to weaken him,” Poseidon added. “They had to try getting inside his head or this would have never worked. This is end-game. The rest was preparation. Maybe not for Minthe, but for the faceless one definitely.”

Hades shoved away from the trash bin and leaned against the wall. He still looked sick as he found one of her hands and squeezed it gently until she met his gaze. She started to feel sick with him.  
“Be honest,” he said and the room quieted. “I ne-need the truth.”

Persephone took another deep breath, not wanting to him to ask what happened before he was shoved into the Lethe. She didn’t want to be the one to fill in the blanks about what Minthe did. So far, him not remembering any of it was a blessing from Gaia. For the most part.

“What have I done?” he asked. “Who have I hurt? The faceless one, Cerberus, sa-said I hurt someone. That I’m like … him. Kr-kronos.”

Poseidon moved faster than Persephone, reaching forward and gripping the front of Hades’ shirt. He secured his other hand in Hades’ hair, making him look at him.

“Never once in the past two-thousand years have you ever been like him,” Poseidon growled, teeth clenched as he forced words through them. “Do you hear me?”

“And you’ve hurt no one,” Ares said, arms still folded as he remained in his seat. “At least, no one who didn’t deserve it.”

Hades stared at Ares, a darkness in his eyes making him see something else. Persephone didn’t know what it was but didn’t like it. The faceless one had already gotten in his head. Her anxiety mixed with nervousness, not wanting to think Hades would search for the faceless god just to let them punish him.

“Either way, we have to get smarter,” Zeus said, leaning on his elbows, purple hair dropping across his face. “From the start, there have been calculated attacks. Isn’t that what you said, Ares?”

“It started small,” Ares said. “They have drugs to control him, or any of us. They have a weapon to hurt any of us, that can’t be healed by force. And they have manipulated his mind enough that I’m afraid of what they could convince him to do.”

“I couldn’t open that door,” Hades said. “If he ever gets free….” Hades looked at Persephone and the fear loud on his face wasn’t for himself. It was for her. And it broke her heart. Even though he remembered nothing about her, she saw how much he needed to protect her.

The Dread Queen freed herself with a shove. Red thorny vines crawled through her hair. Hades leaned away, taking in the red eyes, the blood she felt drip down her cheeks. But she didn’t let him release her hand. She held on. Because no one else was going to touch him again.

No one was going to hurt him.

No one.

“What we know about this faceless one is they will test us,” Ares said. “Scare us and manipulate us into doing something we shouldn’t, make us move one way when they move another. It is very calculated. I would say the attack this morning was one of those tests, which means we should do something they don’t expect or don’t want.”

“Which is what?” Hera asked, taking a long pull on her cigarette, filling the conference room with second-hand smoke.

“After seeing what happens when Poseidon gets hurt – it just means the faceless one could use either him or Zeus to hurt Hades,” Ares said. “We need to split them up.”

“No.” Poseidon started shaking his head. “No, no. Don’t like that.”

“So the next time we get attacked, you’re going to let the faceless one capture you and torture you to make Hades compliant?” Ares asked. “Or maybe they’ll take Zeus, use him to open the fucking door to Kronos’ cell. Or maybe they’ll take Hebe next time.”

Hades winced. The Dread Queen held his hand tighter and watched as vines wrapped their fingers together. Hades looked down at the gentle pressure, eyes narrowing as the vines climbed his arm. He peeked up at her from beneath his brow, head tilted.

“We split up. We hide. And we set up decoys,” Ares said.

“Decoys?” Hades echoed, frowning, breaking the gaze he held with her. She didn’t like his attention going somewhere else.

“Ares can pretend to be you somewhere in the mortal realm,” Zeus offered. “Poseidon can go back to his realm where his people can protect him.”

Poseidon was still shaking his head, muttering “no” like a chant.

“I’ll be Hades in the Underworld,” Hera said.

“No,” Persephone and Zeus said together.

Persephone spoke next, forcefully. “You aren’t welcome in the Underworld, Hera,” she said. “Hades isn’t yours to paw at or confuse.”

Hera looked at the vines squeezing Hades’ arm, a flash of concern on her face. She took a measured drag on her cigarette, as if to calm her nerves. The tip lit red.

The circling thunderclouds rumbled. Zeus’ eyes sparked.

“And you’re not going to pretend to be the object of the faceless god’s hate,” Zeus joined in.

“I owe Hades this much,” Hera said and met Persephone’s crimson glare. “And you. I owe you at least this too.”

“Then you’re not going to be in his realm,” Zeus said. “You’ll be here with me. Eros can take Hebe to be with his siblings.”

“I really should stay with Hades and Persephone,” Eros interjected.

A clap of thunder cut him off.

“Persephone, Hades has a lot of homes in the Underworld,” Zeus said, ignoring Eros’ glare. “Hide him in one of them.”  
\----  
The clothes Persephone packed weren’t hers and they weren’t Hades’. Since they left their home in the Underworld in a hurry, none of their belongings were with them. And they couldn’t swing by to grab anything either.

Persephone watched Hades pull neatly folded shirts from a drawer and press them into one of the white suitcases Zeus gave them. Hades hadn’t said anything since the meeting with his family earlier, but kept rubbing the arm where she had wrapped vines around him. She had unraveled them from him already, but something about it had left him … itching, so-to-speak.

“I’m sorry,” she said, watching him rub his skin absently again as he turned back to the dresser.

Hades looked at her from over a shoulder, confused. She gestured to how he was touching his arm and he dropped his hand.

“I didn’t mean to … grab at you, like that,” she said. “There’s a side of me that gets … angry. Never with you, but instead protective.”

He faced her, listening. His silence was making her panic. She didn’t want him to be silent again.

“I get angry with everyone else who just … doesn’t respect you.” She let out a long breath, bowing her head to stare at her feet. “Or who doesn’t care that you’re taken. I have an engagement ring and I wish we could put one on you too. Maybe then Hera and whoever else will remember you’re not up for grabs.”

Then his hands were there, sliding around her face and under her hair. As she let him tilt her jaw up, she was surprised by the sudden kiss. The warmth of his lips on hers, the delicious smell of smoke and forest, made her dizzy. He made her smile. She deepened the kiss, encouraging him as he lifted her, pressing her body to his. She sucked on his tongue, tangling fingers in his soft hair.

“Please,” he whispered against her mouth. “Please, n-never apologize for being powerful.”

Persephone wrapped her legs around him, kissing him along his jaw.

“So you like what I did then?” she whispered into his ear, wrapping vines up his legs, pulling him toward the bed. The mattress hit the back of his legs and they bounced together onto the comforter. She straddled him, arms on either side of his head. The way he looked at her with total wonder, and a red spark of lust, made her kiss him again.

She urged the vines farther up his legs and to rub along his penis, over his pants. The contact elicited a moan, which she muffled with her lips.

“Looks like I’m interrupting.”

Persephone froze but didn’t jump up. She knew it was just Hera standing in the doorway and any opportunity to remind her to back off was one Persephone was glad to take. Persephone kissed Hades, deeply, once more before sitting up. He didn’t seem bothered by the interruption either, all of his attention on her.

Which she loved.

Finally, she looked over at Hera who was fiddling with a lighter.

“We’re busy packing,” Persephone said.

“Yes, I can see you’re busy.” Hera raised a brow, looking at Hades splayed beneath Persephone. Persephone glared.

“I’d like to speak with you,” Hera said and walked back into the hallway. “Persephone,” she called.

Hades sighed beneath her, pushing hair from her face and tucking it behind an ear. Persephone pressed her forehead to his, breathing in his scent of a winter forest on fire, kissing him once more.  
“I’ll be right back,” she said against his chin, kissing him there too, before sliding off him and letting the vines fall away. She looked at him as she left the room, turned on by the ruffled state of his hair and clothes as he sat up on his elbows to watch her go.

“You should be more careful,” Hera said, standing in the middle of the hallway.

Persephone folded her arms. “What did you need?” she asked.

“To apologize.” Hera took a deep breath, raising her head to meet her gaze. “I’m … ashamed. For what I did. The fumes from the Lethe are no excuse. If anything, it just showed how much regret I feel for having let him go in the first place.”

Even her apology made Persephone territorial. She held back the Dread Queen, letting Hera continue.

“I know I need to let him go and I thought I had. But it seems … I need to keep working on it.” Hera reached out and took one of Persephone’s hands, making her unfold her arms. “You mean the world to me, Persephone. I don’t want to make things more difficult than they already are. I should have never taken advantage of him like that.”

Persephone took her hand back.

“Not that it makes it better, but never once did he relax around me like he has with you.” Hera snorted and the tears started flowing, as they so often did with her. “Whenever I kissed him, he pulled away.”  
Persephone squeezed her eyes closed. She didn’t want to imagine Hera forcing herself on him.

“Whenever I touched him, he tried to move away.”

The Dread Queen rolled forward and glared at hearing how Hera persisted even when he made it clear he wanted her to stop. It was too close to what Minthe did to him. Hera shifted under the heat coming off Persephone.

“I never pushed too far,” Hera said. “The worst was when you walked in … the night he left. I had too much to drink.” She cut herself off, knowing that was an unacceptable thing to say. It was no excuse either. “But even though he only remembered those early days after his imprisonment, he didn’t want me. Something inside of him knows he loves you, dear. That’s the kind of love I would give anything for.”

Persephone glanced over her shoulder back to the room, needing to be near him again. She didn’t know if she was ready to forgive Hera and didn’t want to be near her.

“Persephone,” Hera called, drawing her attention again. “I’ll keep my distance. I’m sorry.”

Persephone studied her watery blue eyes, the mascara smearing down her gold cheeks, and nodded. It was all she could give her.

As if knowing it was the best she would get, Hera let out a sigh. Then she looked back at the room too.

“Can I apologize to him?” she asked.

“No.” The word came out fast as a whip. Hera even flinched from it, but then looked over Persephone’s shoulder again and smiled.

“Aidoneus, dear,” Hera called.

Persephone turned and saw Hades in the doorway with their suitcases. He must have finished packing for both of them. He looked up and smiled. The greeting to Hera was just that, a greeting, but then he turned his dimpled grin to Persephone and her knees got weak. She put a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back to the room.

“I’ll be there in just a moment,” she said. “Then we can go meet the others together before we leave.”

“Wait,” Hera called and the Dread Queen turned to face her.

“I said no,” she repeated.

“Hades, I’m sorry,” Hera said over her anyway, stopping him from walking away. He paused at the doorway, listening.

Persephone floated in front of her, blocking her view of him.

Hera met her glare and spoke anyway. “Hades, when you do finally get your memory back, I hope you can forgive me then.”

“Leave,” Persephone ordered.

Hera shoved another cigarette between her lips and nodded. She turned and disappeared around the corner. Persephone waited, making sure she didn’t return, before floating back to Hades. He studied the thorny red vines knotted through her hair, the blood weeping from her eyes, and took her hand.

“You’re be-beautiful,” he breathed.  
\----  
Hera was nowhere to be found as the family gathered in the foyer to say goodbye. Persephone was glad. She didn’t want to see her for a very long time. Hades set their suitcases down and took her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss it.

“Uncle Hades!” Hebe bounded up to them and he crouched to meet her. She jumped into his arms.

Persephone grinned as she watched them. Eros joined her, looking on as Hades opened a hand in front of Hebe and light glittered in his palm. As the light faded, it left behind a yellow sapphire tiara. There was not a shred of metal. Persephone saw that it was made entirely of the gemstone. Hebe’s eyes were huge as Hades placed it tenderly on her head.

“He’s going to be a great dad,” Eros said to Persephone, leaning an arm on her shoulder.

She nodded absently as Poseidon hurried to Hades, clinging to him more than Hebe had.

“I’ll sneak by to see you,” Poseidon whispered loudly, fingers digging into Hades’ shirt. “I know I’m your favorite brother.”

Zeus slapped Poseidon on the back of the head.

“Just don’t tell him yet,” Eros whispered.

Persephone made a face. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“He doesn’t remember you, Perse,” Eros said, keeping his voice low. “He’s not going to remember when or why you healed him.”

“Healed him?” She shrugged his arm off her shoulder to face him.

“Well, he won’t believe it’s his,” Eros said.

Her heart sped up. Eros looked worried now. He checked on the others and then leaned in to whisper.

“Honey,” he said, “you’re pregnant.”


	21. Hideaway and Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments keep me going!

Eros was wide-eyed. Persephone didn’t know what her expression was, but it must have been enough to tell him that she had no idea….

She grabbed him, dragging him down the hallway to put distance between them and the others. She noticed Zeus staring after them but ignored it.

“What do you mean I’m ‘pregnant’?” Persephone hissed, putting air quotes around the heavy word.

Eros looked horrified by what he said.

“I thought you knew,” he hissed back, pleading for her to not be upset. “Ever since you came to Olympus and things started to calm down, you’ve had a hand on your lower abdomen. And you’ve been glowing. And very hormonal.”

“Hormonal?” She felt her eyes go red.

Eros pointed.

“Dread Queen has made a lot of appearances.” Eros said. She glared. He popped a hip and got his attitude back. “Miss Dread took my waffles yesterday, ma’am. Waffles.”

Persephone blinked. She vaguely remembered that. She just mainly remembered watching Hades share berries with Hebe before he decided to make pancakes. Hades was adorable, and sexy, slurping at strawberries.

“And you’re a fertility goddess,” Eros said, pleading again. “I really thought you already knew.”

Persephone put her hands over herself, as if she could feel something growing inside of her. The idea that she was finally carrying a baby, something that was part Hades and part her, made her suddenly hopeful that Eros was right. When they first talked about starting a family, it was before their engagement. Hades agreed to let her heal him, or at least try, and saw nothing wrong with trying to get pregnant immediately. She knew he didn’t really think it would happen for them, or him, but….

She felt it. Or she felt – something. She pressed her hands harder against her uterus. There was a flicker of life in there. It was warm.

“My gods,” she breathed.

Eros was grinning. “Congratulations,” he whispered. “Mama,” he added with a wiggle.

Persephone fought tears. The joy that swarmed through her was staggering. She wanted to run into the foyer and tell Hades-.

Her tears turned bitter.

Eros was right about that too. Hades couldn’t know right now. He would have no context. No history. No memory of the conversations leading up to this, the commitment, the hopes and fears and understanding of how they got here.

She grit her teeth. Red filled her eyes and she fought to keep the Dread Queen from ripping the mansion apart. Hate raged through her now, white hot, for the faceless god. That god, whoever they were, took this from Hades too. Instead of being here with her, celebrating and dreaming of what their child might be like, he was saying goodbye to his family before going into hiding, in a fight to regain his memories and to not be caged with Kronos.

And when he did get his memories, he would have to deal with the traumas inflicted on him from the faceless god’s torture and … Minthe.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Eros whispered, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“He wanted this so badly, Eros,” she sobbed. “This shouldn’t be happening – like this. He should be here with me when I find out. Not fighting for his life.”

“He can’t be killed.”

“If they get him in a cell with his father, how will we get him back? He will be trapped, taken from us for who knows how long. What if he never gets to see his child born or be there as they grow up? Eros, please, let me tell him. Let him have this just for now, before….” The sobbing overtook her and she clung to Eros to stay on her feet.

He was shaking his head, weeping with her now. “You can’t tell him,” he whispered. “Don’t let him think you betrayed him. He’s so attached to you, even without your history. He is still vulnerable. His body is healing, but his mind is fragile.”

Persephone nodded. He was right again. She hated it.

“You’ll be able to tell him eventually,” Eros said. “One thing at a time. And right now, we just need to keep him away from the faceless one.”

“Hey,” Zeus called to them. He stood at the end of the hallway near the foyer, frowning. “No offshoot groups.”

Persephone subtly wiped away her tears and put on a smile. It was painful. Eros led them back, but Zeus caught her arm.

“We’ll catch the faceless god,” he told her. “I won’t let my brother be tormented anymore.”

She nodded to him, not able to find words or fight the damn tears. She wiped at them and Zeus rubbed her arm as if he could ever comfort her.

“Is there anything else bothering you?” he asked.

“No,” she lied and managed another smile. When she looked up at him, he was still frowning. Something was definitely bothering him.

“Persephone,” Ares called, waving her to the group.

Hades was being squished between a dramatically weeping Poseidon and a laughing, tiara-clad Hebe. Hades smiled at Persephone, lopsided and happy. She caught herself holding a hand to her lower abdomen again.

Zeus escorted her back to the others, where Ares intercepted her.

“Do you know where you’re going?” he asked.

It took Persephone a moment to understand what he was asking.

“Yes, I know the place,” she said. “It’s the house where Hades wanted us to escape when this all began.”

“I know the place,” Eros said. “I’ll pop in and check on you two. And remember,” he lowered his tone, though Ares leaned in to listen, amused. “Don’t. Have. Sex.”

Ares snorted and patted Eros on the shoulder like it was hopeless. Persephone glowered at him.

“Oh, who cares if they do,” Zeus said, rolling his eyes. “Sure, she’ll feel guilty when he goes into hibernation but then at least we won’t have to worry about him opening Kronos’ cell.”

Ares was less amused now and Eros shocked. Persephone swallowed down the Dread Queen and marched stiffly to extract Hades from his brother and niece.

“No!” Poseidon wailed. “Don’t tear us apart!”  
\----  
The house was beautiful.

Persephone wished they had arrived sooner, squeezing Hades’ hand as they walked down the cobbled path to the door. The exterior was all smooth river stone, sweeping windows shuttered behind pale blue slats. Some of the windows had planters beneath them, though they sat empty. That wouldn’t last long.

At least, once this was over.

The lock creaked and swung hard as she turned the key. The door opened to the smell of cool wood and dusty sheets that were draped over the furniture. She wished she could ask Hades when he last visited this house, but when she turned to him and saw his curiosity as he looked around, she knew he didn’t know.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” she asked as he set their suitcases down. She stepped into his empty arms, leaning into him.

“A little more of the war,” he said, voice rumbling in his chest against her face. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” she said, burying her nose in his shirt.

“Are you okay?” His arms tightened around her, gentle but firm.

“The more you hold me, the better I feel.” She took a deep breath of his smoky scent, wishing he knew their child was there with them. Afraid she might start crying again, she pulled back and dragged him into the house. “Let’s explore!”

The house was smaller than the one above the Lethe, but she liked the narrower hallways, the creaking wood floors, the chandeliers with the dimmer light. It was still very much his aesthetic from the floor-to-ceiling windows, cool colors, simple decorations. It felt like home. She was thrilled to find it also had a pool, but as she started to pull her clothes off to take a dip, he was pulling her back into the master bedroom. She questioned him with a glance as he lifted her with him onto the bed, just to hold her.

It took her a moment to remember what she said to him when they first got there, that she felt better the more he held her. A burst of love hit her and she nuzzled closer. As they stayed there on the dusty black comforter, she could almost pretend that he was himself again, that the past two weeks hadn’t happened, that he knew she was pregnant.

Almost.  
\----  
She woke up to the smell of eggs and vegetables.

Persephone breathed it in, listened to butter sizzle in the pan, and stretched. A heavy blanket weighed on her, the most comfortable feeling in the world when waking up. That and the soft pillow behind her head.

She opened her eyes, surprised to find a new comforter on her, this one white, and a cup of tea on the bedside table. It smelled like chamomile and honey. She sat up, grabbing the delicate cup, and sipped at it. The warm, herbal brew promised it was going to be a good day.

As if hearing her thoughts, Hades knocked and opened the bedroom door carrying a plated omelet. His hair was combed perfectly, though that didn’t stop the perfect few strands that liked to fall across his face. He wore a black t-shirt, his scars and biceps battling for her attention.

“Good morning,” he smiled, showing her his dimples. “Are you hungry?”

She nodded, setting her cup of tea down a little too quickly. Some splashed onto its saucer. Hades set the omelet next to it, along with a fork and napkin.

“Eggs, of course,” he said, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed next to her. “Hecate was by earlier with food. So, I put in some onions and carrots. And a little kale. She said you’re a vegetarian.”  
Persephone grabbed his hand.

“Who was here?” she asked.

“Hecate,” he said and patted her fingers that gripped him. “She just was checking to make sure we were okay.”

“Are you sure it was her?” Persephone asked, fighting back terror.

He was nodding, confused. But then, did he know that who he thought of as “Cerberus” was the faceless one? She kicked the sheets back, looking for her phone. Hades stopped her.

“She told me to let you know that your mother is calling her a lot. She said your mother wants you to speak to her again. She said the calls are getting annoying.”

Persephone felt anxiety for a whole different reason now, though this time not about the faceless one. She grunted and waved a hand.

“That was Hecate, all right,” Persephone said. “She knows I’m not talking to my mom.”

“Who is your mom?” Hades asked.

Persephone studied him, not sure what she was allowed to say. As if understanding this, Hades pointed to the plate he brought in.

“Where’s your breakfast?” she asked.

“Already ate,” he said. “Woke up when Hecate knocked on the door a few hours ago.”

“I slept through it?”

“You were very upset about something last night.” Hades touched her cheek, surveying her now. “You needed the rest. And the food.” He picked up the plate and handed it to her. She laughed and took a bite. It was delicious, as his cooking always was. “Are you feeling better now?”

For an answer, she leaned forward and kissed him. He smiled against her, but the longer she tasted him the more she needed. She slid the plate back onto the nightstand, not breaking their locked lips, and pulled him over her. He leaned back and looked at her, brushing petals from her hair.

“What do you need?” he whispered.

She took in his fallen hair, which hung like a halo around him, and the absolute love in his eyes.

“I need you,” she whispered back.

And then he was there, kissing her again, big fingers stroking the side of her neck. She wrapped her legs around him, drawing him closer. Her heart raced as his hands moved to her chest, pressing over one raised nipple through her shirt. She panted into his mouth as he gripped her breast in the palm of his hand, squeezing. He broke their kiss to lower his lips to her neck, teeth biting at her skin before he sucked on her. She tangled her hands in his hair, whining as he rolled to his side off of her.

But he wasn’t done. He held her gaze as his hand slid lower, slipping between her legs. She knew he could feel how wet she was as he ran his middle finger down her slit over her shorts. The way he didn’t look away from her eyes turned her on in a whole new way, as he sought permission as he continued to explore her. She bit her lip, bucking her hips into his hand.

Hades leaned in and kissed her again, his tongue filling her mouth. His hand moved to the waistband of her shorts, moving underneath it. The feel of his skin on hers was hot and something she missed dearly. When his fingers gripped her pussy, she moaned, arching her back at the contact. Big fingers dipped into her folds, feeling her entrance and then sliding up to her clit. She reached down and held onto his arm as he slowly massaged her, every nerve on fire.

Her phone started to ring from the other side of the room.

Hades looked up and his hand stopped moving, but she drew his face back to hers, needing him to continue. He complied, one thick finger penetrating her. Her head fell back as she gasped, her moan loud in the room.

“I hate to be the one to spoil the fun,” someone called from behind the door.

Hades froze. Persephone sat up.

“It’s just me.” Eros waved a hand into the room. “I tried to call first. My timing is perfect. Or terrible. Depends how you look at it.” He stuck his head in next, though was covering his eyes. “Good morning! Breakfast smells good.” He disappeared into the hallway. “It’s rude to leave a guest sitting by themselves!”

Persephone fell back into the pillows, biting back a moan as Hades smiled down at her, a red glint in his eyes that made her hot and bothered all over again. He pressed his head to hers and curled his finger inside of her, a thumb rubbing around her clit. But then he pulled his hand free and sucked her juices off his finger.

She stifled a groan at the devilish way he smirked at her.

“Scoundrel,” she whispered.

“Should I apologize?” he whispered back.

“Don’t make me come back in there!” Eros called.  
\----


	22. The Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this whole chapter with Masked Wolf's "Astronaut In The Ocean" playing in the background since TikTok got it stuck in my head anyway :) But getting to my favorite part of the story soon. Writing faster because I can't wait to share it. Comments are pushing me! Loving all of them!
> 
> And there is violence. Avoid the end of the second scene if you want to skip it.

The disapproving looks from Eros were loud.

Hades sat at the head of the dining table staring between them, waiting for someone to break the silence. Persephone just kept eating the omelet Hades made for her, content with the awkwardness.

“You should eat yours before it gets cold,” she told Eros. “You begged him for one, after all.”

“And how much begging have the two of you done?” he asked.

A deep azure bloomed across Hades’ cheeks and he shifted in his chair. Persephone just smiled and took another bite of omelet.

“This is delicious, Aidoneus,” she said and picked up his hand from off the table, bringing it to her lips. His heavy fingers still smelled faintly of her. The blush on his beautiful skin faded and a red glint caught in the kitchen light from his eyes.

“I’m moving in,” Eros announced.

“Zeus said no,” Persephone reminded.

“Then for gods sakes, be more restrained,” Eros huffed, pink hair bobbing on his forehead at his frustration. “Both of you. Gaia.”

“Eros, I don’t think everyone needs to be careful around me,” Hades said. “Especially Persephone.”

The steadiness of his words, the deep and calm reverberation, made Persephone shiver. He sounded so much like himself, holding her hand, leaned back in his chair as he surveyed Eros in a very collected sort of way. He was starting to come back. She could almost taste it.

Seeing just this flicker of her king made her realize how much she missed him. A pang pulled at her chest.

Eros seemed put off by his assertiveness as well, squinting at him.

“What’s the last thing you remember, Hades,” Eros asked.

“Putting Kronos away,” he said.

Eros sighed. “That’s still mostly two millennia away from where you are now. You have almost two-thousand years weighing on your mind slowly trickling in. If you breach the dam, if anything breaches that dam holding it back, you will be crushed. And then waiting for you to recover from that will take even longer.”

Hades let go of Persephone’s hand, a concentrated crease between his brows. She bit her lip, watching him analyze this.

“I don’t want to keep being the wet towel,” Eros said. “I understand you two have this epic romance, this awesome bond, and a part of you feels that, Hades, but if it’s too much I will ask Zeus to move Persephone to my house and I’ll stay with you.”

“Don’t do that to us,” Persephone said, setting her fork down.

“Don’t worry about us,” Hades said, taking her hand again. Even though he spoke to Eros, he held her gaze. “Being close with her has only made me feel … stronger.”

The Hades she knew best was so close. Persephone could almost imagine him back in one of his perfect black suits, lounged behind his work desk and lit by the electric glow of his computer screen, frowning at reports and nymphs.

“I’m not afraid of where our feelings take us,” Hades said. “The only damage I’ve felt is when I’ve been lied to.” He looked at Eros then. “But you know that. You fixed that when you stepped in. I trusted you then. Now trust me.”

Eros was flushed like he didn’t know how to respond. Instead of saying anything, Eros finally took a bite of his omelet and then almost dropped his fork with a gasp.

“Gods,” he said behind a hand. “That is good. Uncle, why haven’t you cooked more for the family?”

Hades smirked that little side grin and squeezed her hand before letting it go. Persephone glowed at his shift in demeanor, his confidence. As she ate with Eros, listening to him complain about his siblings, she watched Hades nod along and drink his coffee. He was … familiar again. They had done this so many mornings. Eros might not have been there, but she could see it. Their future. It was going to be okay.

It had to be okay.  
\----  
Persephone wanted to explore the yard, dragging Hades with her. The backyard was vast, filled with steep hills of black dirt and shadowy boulders. Nothing grew. There was no grass, not even dead stalks of grass or weeds. What pained her were the diamond lines in the dirt, as if Hades once wanted to build a garden or had tried to grow something. Of course, there was nothing there now. Only the slivers of sparkling crystal. It was beautiful, if not lonely.

She knelt in the dirt near the back door and traced a finger along one of those diamond garden borders, brushing dust from it.

“You are the Goddess of Spring?” Hades asked, kneeling next to her as he surveyed the desolate yard.

To answer him, she sank her hands into the dirt and tulips floomed along the diamond edge. They glowed pink and blue, green leaves twisting with their own light. Hades reached out slowly, as if he was afraid he might shatter an illusion, and just barely touched one of the pink petals. Golden pollen rose up like sparks from a fire.

“Amazing,” he breathed, then looked at her like he had when she first showed him what she could do after freeing him from Minthe. “You shine here. In this place.”

She questioned him by making a face.

“It’s the land of the dead,” he said. “Look at it.” He waved at the darkness, the only beautiful pieces being the stars above and the crystals he used to decorate long ago. “What a blessing you are here. I imagine you give everyone in the realm something beautiful to look at.” He watched the flowers tilt to a wind that wasn’t there, more pollen dancing into the dark. “What makes you want to be stay though? When you clearly belong where things thrive in the sun.”

She winced at that, sliding closer and kissing him on the cheek.

“I fell in love with the king,” she said.

Hades studied her more closely, running his hands through her hair, disturbing the flowers sprouting there. When he kissed her, it was passionate. She returned the energy, feeling his pain, his need to remember. He tilted her back, making eye contact as he did. She pulled him with her, but his lips didn’t return to hers. The heat from his mouth met her neck, tongue dabbing at her skin.

She pulled on his chin, making him look at her again. He obeyed, his breathing heavy.

Persephone guided his hand between her legs, glad she decided to wear a dress this morning. Not having to wrestle with clothes made things easier. He pressed his forehead to hers, stroking her over her lace thong.

“Hades,” she breathed, tilting her face to press her mouth to his. He sucked on her bottom lip.

Then he moved to whisper in her ear. “I want to hear you moan again,” he said.

She watched him move down her body, keeping his eyes on hers as he pushed her dress up. She nodded, biting her lip, as he lowered his face between her legs.

The feel of his tongue through the lace made her head fall back. Fingers slid the lace aside and then his skin on hers gave him what he asked for. She moaned, bucking into the sensation. The heat from his mouth engulfed her, his forked tongue lapping from her entrance up to her clit. The dripping, slipping sounds of his mouth made her even wetter.

She hummed in need of more, catching his burning red gaze as he looked up at her from between her thighs. Seeing herself ride his face like this turned her on. That he wanted her like this even without remembering her….

His tongue circled slowly around the cluster of nerves and pushed a finger inside, sliding in, then out. In, then out. He went slow, taking his time. Another finger curled inside, and she rolled her hips, needing more friction.

“Hades,” she groaned, back arching in the dirt. Her fingers dug into the soil, grinding on his mouth, tortured by how he was dragging out her pleasure.

He rubbed his mouth on her clit, thick fingers moving firmly but slowly in and out of her. She rubbed herself on him, gripping his head to hold him still as she moved with him. She was so close. Her orgasm was in her veins, climbing, getting hotter. 

But then he jolted away with a grunt and his fingers slipped out. She gaped at the field of stars overhead, dizzy and confused. Her skin tingled with his absence, everything aching from not reaching her climax. Panting, she sat up and found him on his hands and knees at her feet, trembling.

“Hades-?” Then she saw ichor. The gold was blinding in the shadows, dripping down the bunched muscles of his right arm. She scrambled to kneel beside him, but then he fell to his side. A fist clutched his shirt and she saw another wound seeping ichor along his chest, this one down by his stomach.

“Gods,” she breathed.

He cried out, flinching as a third wound punched into him. She searched and found ichor growing on his thigh. There were no arrows to be found, nothing to blame for hurting him.

“Poseidon,” she realized. “Or Zeus.”

“Or both,” he growled and shoved back to his knees. She braced him so he wouldn’t fall again. “I have to help them.”

“No,” she started, but his attention focused over her shoulder. Red filled his eyes, a wrathful crimson, and he pushed her down. She saw him swing an arm, something bright flying from his hand, and twisted on the ground to look behind her.

A mortal man had an arrow drawn at them; half shielded by one of the boulders. Hades’ diamond bolt slammed between the man’s eyes. The shaft ruptured his skull with a heavy crunch, knocking his head back. A dribble of blood sank from around the crystal, dripping along his nose, before he fell limp to the ground.

“Inside.” She shoved to her feet. “In the house!”

She reached for Hades who fell to his knees, ichor running down the side of his head. Thick arms wrap around his neck from behind. The Dread Queen hurtled forward, shearing through her horror. As she ripped to the surface, black vines climbed the man trying to drag her king backwards. The mortal screamed and he let Hades drop, but the Dread Queen tangled the vines tighter.

“No!” the man managed before she sucked him beneath the dirt, burying him alive.

Muscles along Hades’ jaw flexed as he stood, ichor swinging from his hair. She went to take his hand and rush him inside the house, but Hades was moving fast again. His big hands flung another mortal away from her, knocking a knife into the yard with one strike. She watched in awe as he raised an arm and gripped the man by his neck, lifting him off the ground.

Hades pulled back and hurled the man back to the dirt. The mortal hit the soil and diamond cracked around him. Crystals climbed over him as he screamed. Hades let him go and stood back, watching with a cold, detached gaze as the man was engulfed in a coffin of stone.

Hades turned and waved a dismissive hand. The block of diamond shattered. The man’s body shattered with it.

Persephone took Hades’ hand this time, bringing those angry eyes to hers.

“Come with me,” she said, tugging at him.

“I’ll meet you there,” he said.

The Dread Queen was having none of that. She wrapped vines around him, admiring his attempt to struggle, and flung the back door open. The vines pulled him inside, releasing him only to move back and wall off the entrance. Persephone dropped to her knees beside him and tried to see how many wounds he had, furious to see ichor on him again.

“There might be more of them,” he said and she covered his mouth with a hand, needing to focus. The red in his eyes bled away as he watched her. She slid her hands along the sides of his neck and urged him to heal.

She felt the wounds start to stitch themselves together. His breathing eased as the pain melted away, his hands finding hers to squeeze her fingers in silent “thank you.”

They sat together in the hallway for a few minutes, listening to each other breathe, listening for people to break in. But there was nothing else. Just the drip of ichor off his ruined clothes. She buried her face in his hair, taking comfort in having him in her hands still. He let her hold onto him, gripping her arms gently.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re okay.”

She sighed into his hair, not sure how to explain that she wasn’t worried about herself.

Though she suddenly realized she should. A new terror hit her when she remembered that she was pregnant. He must have felt the shiver because he held her closer.  
\----  
“No one is picking up.” Persephone paced in front of him, moving up and down the hallway. They hadn’t bothered going anywhere. Hades stayed seated against the wall, elbows on his knees, head leaned back.

“We should check on them,” he said. “Something isn’t right.”

Persephone tried calling Ares again. It rang. And rang. And rang.

She hung up. Then she tried Hera, of all people.

It went straight to voicemail.

“The faceless one wouldn’t have just sent three mortals,” Persephone muttered. “Mortals.” She looked at him. “Why would the faceless god even bother?”

“To not waste effort in finding out where I am.” Hades was calm, though chewed on a thought he wasn’t voicing. She could see it in how he ran his tongue between his teeth and pursed his lips.

Persephone had a feeling that he wanted her to get away from him. In all reality, it wasn’t safe. She knew he loved her, knew that he would put himself in danger to keep her away from it.

Not wanting to have that argument, she called someone she hadn’t tried yet.

Hecate answered on the first ring.

“What’s wrong?” Hecate asked.

“We’ve been attacked,” Persephone breathed, relieved to reach someone. “The others were too by the wounds Hades started to get. Ichor came out of nowhere.”

Hecate was quiet. Persephone felt the stress on the other end.

“But we can’t reach the others,” Persephone said.

Still no response.

“Can you check on them? I know you’re busy at Underworld Corps., but Hades wants to go check on them and I don’t think we should leave the house.”

“Of course I can pop in,” Hecate said. “Is Hades doing better?”

“Yes.” Persephone smiled at Hades, wondering how she would keep him in the house with her. “Thank you.” Hecate laughed, though it came out more like a huff. “And thank you for bringing those vegetables over this morning. They are delicious.”

Hecate was quiet again.

“Persephone,” she said. “I haven’t been to the house.”


	23. Zeus' World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say how awesome all of you are? You make my day with your comments! I love that so many of you are as invested as I am in this wild little idea I had for a LO fanfiction! 
> 
> I have the ending planned out. What's funny about me though is I always have two endings ready to go with my stories. And I never know which one the story will want when I reach the end. One ending is the "easy ending," while the other is the "hard ending." Essentially, one is happy and one is ... hard. I'm in that phase now where I'm trying to decide which ending this story will want. There was always a Part 2 planned, but I think I might just fold it into this and make it seamless for the sake of continuity. We'll see. Curious about what you all think though?
> 
> Also, a small spoiler warning for this chapter at the end. Anyone who doesn't read the LO fast pass episodes - avoid Zeus. It's healthy for all of us to do that though. But I don't think it is much of a spoiler - just my take on implied information. Regardless - spoiler warning just in case! 
> 
> Oh and I did some fan art of a happy Hades. Something to hold onto for the next few chapters!

Brambles scraping along the house made Persephone’s bones shiver. She tried to ignore the rasp of thorns on the windows, tried to focus on wrapping the walls in something that would make someone second guess the decision to break in … but she kept turning to check on him.

Hades leaned against the couch behind her, arms folded as he watched her work. She had to peek at him every few seconds just to reassure herself that he was still there. Not that she knew why he was frowning at her like that, though she had a good idea. And if she was right, it was not a conversation she wanted to have. As it was, she was glad the earlier attack was small, and no one pursued them inside the house.

At least, no one tried to get in yet.

And she wasn’t going to be caught with her guard down again.

“Persephone,” Hades said softly, the reverberating growl of his voice raking chills over her skin. She turned away to focus on blocking every entrance to the house, breathing carefully as the Dread Queen boiled below. The Dread Queen kept forcing her to remember the ichor soaking his clothes and smearing his broken skin, his cries of pain, the way he strained against that mortal who tried taking him from her again….

Persephone breathed through her nose. _Focus_. More red brambles and thorny vines snaked around the house, tightening, squeezing. Walls creaked and dust shivered in the air.

A warm hand slid over her shoulder. She felt his breath ruffle her hair. He smelled like home, like smoke and wood and everything she wanted to hold tight.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please look at me.”

She gripped his hand on her shoulder and leaned back against him.

“I need to do this,” she said, avoiding what she didn’t want to hear him say. “They will keep coming for you. We can’t hide you.”

He gently turned her and she held her chin up, steeling herself to look into his sweet eyes. The way he studied her was painfully soft, his love for her loud in his face.

“I’m not going to hide,” he said. “But I do want you to leave me.”

She knew that’s what he would say. The Dread Queen stained her eyes red and thorns coiled through her hair. She had to look away from him then, afraid what the Dread Queen would do at the suggestion. Not that she would hurt him. But it might scare him. He didn’t know what she was capable of … he couldn’t remember.

“I know you don’t want to leave and I love you for that,” he said, running a hand down her arm and taking her hand. He pressed it to his chest, pleading. “But it’s like you said. I can’t escape this.”

The house rumbled to the Dread Queen. She clamped her eyes shut, trembling with the shuddering ceiling and floors. Hades only paused, undeterred.

“I can’t see you get hurt,” he said.

Persephone pursed her lips together, squared her shoulders, and then faced him again.

“No,” she said.

He waited for more of an argument, a reason, blinking at her. She smirked at his bewilderment, loving how familiar it was.

“Please,” he whispered again.

She scowled. “No,” she said.

He was getting frustrated now. “Perseph-”

But stood on her toes and kissed him. She allowed herself to savor the heat of his lips but couldn’t fall into it. She couldn’t get carried away with him again, not when the faceless one was getting closer and closer. So before he could press her against him, before he had a chance to deepen the kiss or even pull away to try arguing with her again, she fixed her fingers in his hair and rested her forehead to his. Looking him in the eyes like this was intimate. She loved seeing how his eyes glittered in the dim lights, how all he saw was her. But they were confused. They reminded her that even though he was powerful, he was still vulnerable.

Because he remembered nothing.

So she pleaded with him.

“Trust me,” she said.

“That’s sweet.”

Persephone spun around Hades, putting him behind her before he could do the same. Her heart kicked against her ribs, the Dread Queen ripping forward.

“Zeus,” she breathed, feet hitting the floor. The relief was stressful, leaving her arms heavy.

Zeus stood in the middle of the living room, his iconic white suit stained in ichor. It was unnerving to see that he had been injured, someone who she knew wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination but was still someone she thought of as untouchable. It was subconscious, and logically untrue as was clearly demonstrated now, but it shook her. He was eerily still and stoic as he stared at them.

Hades stepped around Persephone, hurrying to his brother.

“How badly are you hurt?” Hades asked, as if he didn’t know, as if he hadn’t had each wound replicated on his body. “Was Poseidon attacked too?”

Zeus seemed detached as Hades reached him and pulled at his jacket, gently pressing on the chest and stomach wounds. By how motionless Zeus remained, Persephone knew he had been healed already. It bothered her though … how he stared at Hades, lacking all emotion. It wasn’t normal for him. Zeus ran the spectrum of emotions, but not this one.

“We were all attacked at the same time,” Zeus finally spoke. “Ares in the mortal realm was met with a massive army. Poseidon was hurt, in the leg you know, by some mortals. And I in Olympus.”

“And Hera…?” Hades asked.

“She’s fine,” Zeus said. “It’s like they knew she was a decoy. It was like they just wanted to show off that we have no fucking clue how to fight them off … an enemy we can’t identify.”

Hades sighed deeply, then swung an arm out inviting his brother to sit. Zeus grabbed that arm though, the skin around his eyes tight. Hades waited for Zeus to speak, glancing at his hand on him.

“You know what’s funny though,” Zeus said. “Even as I was being shot, even as I could feel you get hit in the head, I couldn’t stop thinking about something I overheard before you two left my home.”

Persephone’s stomach twisted. She looked at Zeus’ hand on Hades, heart starting to race again. No … he couldn’t have overheard….

“And you know, if what I heard was true,” Zeus said, “then maybe I should let the faceless one take you.”

Hades tried to pull away from Zeus, jaw flexed. Zeus didn’t let him go.

“It’s funny because, if what I heard is true, maybe you should be judged,” Zeus said. “Because it means you betrayed me.”

Persephone saw fear flash across Hades’ face, the same fear that was there when he asked her what he had done to hurt people.

“Zeus, no,” Persephone interjected, but her voice broke.

Zeus ignored her, eyes unblinking on his brother, hand tightening on his arm.

“Because back during Persephone’s trial, the deal was that she would come to the Underworld for half the year,” Zeus said. “I gave her to you, brother. You did things your way, giving her a choice to choose you … like I would let her have anyone else. And do you remember why?”

“Stop it,” Persephone moved forward, eyes red, whole body trembling. If Zeus said too much, if Hades remembered too quickly….

Zeus ignored her again. She saw then that he wasn’t motionless, wasn’t detached. He had been sitting in his thoughts about this for too long, working himself up. He was furious. The glow of electricity behind his eyes spoke of how close he was to his god wrath.

She shivered, breathing faster. This wasn’t happening. Not right now.

“She isn’t allowed children with any god related to me. She can’t have children with any of my sons … or my brothers,” Zeus told Hades. “And you’re infertile. Do you remember that you’re infertile?”

Hades was concentrating very hard. A vein appeared on his temple, brow cinched, nostrils flaring. He nodded.

“She was supposed to be harmless if she was with you,” Zeus said. “If she was with you, no one else could have her. I will not be threatened like this.”

Hades checked on Persephone from the corner of his eye, not turning his head. He must recognize the wrath in Zeus’ eyes too, how he teetered on the edge of losing all control.

“So, brother.” Zeus stepped closer to Hades, gripping his other arm now too. They were nose-to-nose. “Tell me. Is she pregnant?”

She saw Hades stop breathing. Then she realized she stopped breathing too.

Zeus laughed suddenly. He dropped his head on Hades’ shoulder, then wrapped a hand around the back of his neck to turn him so they both faced Persephone.

“What was I thinking?” Zeus laughed again, but his eyes blazed white when they fell on her. Her hair shook as electricity charged in the room, invisible but causing static as it moved.

“Persephone, you should leave,” Hades insisted, firm.

She stood her ground.

“Well?” Zeus asked.

She held Hades’ gaze, begging that he trust her even as she stayed silent. She wanted Eros there to intervene, to tell her what she should say. Everything inside of her wanted to jump up and scream that yes, they were having a baby, that they defied Zeus and tried for a family regardless of some legend Zeus feared. All along they had said – if – she managed to get pregnant, they would figure out how to tell Zeus then. But to have all of this fall in front of her at once … she couldn’t find the right words.

And to have Hades in Zeus’ hands… Zeus could do anything to him in retaliation with Hades in this state of mind and she was terrified by the prospect.

“Is it even his?” Zeus asked then.

The Dread Queen reared at even the suggestion.

“How dare you,” she shouted.

But it was like she hadn’t said anything because the glow in Zeus’ eyes started to fade and a huge smile appeared on his stupid face. He shook Hades in a friendly way, messing up his hair like it was all okay.

“Of course it isn’t yours,” Zeus told him, loose and relaxed now. “She cheated on you.”

“No I didn’t,” Persephone shouted, floating up to be at eye level with him. “How dare you-”

“My only concern now is who is the father,” Zeus asked, frowning again.

“Do this later,” Hades finally spoke. When Persephone looked at him, he was focused on his brother. She felt the tears spring up, burning. Fucking Zeus and his fucking crazy ideas. She tried not to think about the needless damage done just now.

“Wait until we deal with the faceless one,” Hades said. “Get some rest. We’ll deal with this later.”

Zeus smiled fondly at him, touched by Hades’ concern over his wellbeing. Zeus nodded, passing a glare with Persephone that promised retribution soon, and then pulled Hades in for a hug.

“I’m sorry,” Zeus said into Hades’ ear, furious eyes still on Persephone. “I should never have doubted you.”


	24. Bitter promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all make me so happy! Love the comments, even the critical ones. Another spoiler warning for this chapter (if you don't read fast pass) - I tried to keep most of the new info out, but spoiler warning anyway. And keep in mind, this is just my interpretation of things. My take is not LO canon by any means, just me and my wild imagination running amuck. I hope you enjoy! More comments to feed the beast please :D
> 
> And one of you asked how to DM me. I am starting up a Twitter account and maybe some other social media stuffs under InkSpills. I've decided to use my anonymous penname for my Webtoon series. Will let you know when I post to Canvas, if you're interested? And those interested in reaching out to me, I will let you know when I have my social media accounts ready. I will remain anonymous because it's more fun that way. Maybe one day I'll tell you all who I am. I dunno.
> 
> Anyways, happy reading!

Zeus kept his hands on Hades, even after leaning back from the hug.

“I’m going to stay here,” Zeus said. It wasn’t an announcement, but a solemn statement. His frown found Persephone and his hands gripped Hades’ tighter. “Can’t trust a cheater with the welfare of my brother, can I?”

Hades gave Persephone a sidelong glance, uncertainty clear in his parted lips, as if there were words standing on his tongue that just couldn’t jump out. The hurt was there too, and it killed her to see it.

“Hades, it isn’t true.” She was shaking her head. “We had so many discussions about having a family. We both wanted this.”

Zeus snorted and put his face close to Hades’, catching his attention again.

“She’s a fertility goddess and you know what that means,” Zeus said. “You remember what I had to do before.”

Hades wasn’t so confused now. But he was angry. He tilted his head at Zeus, red flashing in his eyes, a ruby line smearing in the air between them.

“You wouldn’t use Persephone,” Hades snarled. “I would never let you.”

“You’re right,” Zeus said with a smile that almost carried his usual charisma. Almost. “But you know the rest of the legend about goddesses like her.”

Hades squinted at him. Apparently he didn’t remember past the war and into Zeus’ wild delusions, which were the same ones Demeter shared.

“You know how afraid I am of the prophecy, the one about one of my sons trying to dethrone me.” Zeus had his hands on both sides of Hade’s head, as if he could squeeze his fears into his brother. Persephone saw Hades sweat. Long lines dripped down the back of his neck.

“Stop it,” she said. “It’s too much for him.”

But Zeus either didn’t hear her or didn’t care. “I know it's supposed to be one of my sons who would rise against me, but couldn’t that mean any of my brothers could try too?” Zeus laughed, like he was funny.

“Stop it, Zeus,” Persephone said, watching Hades reach up and grip Zeus’ hands. Hades was trembling. “Now. Stop it.”

“But then if her power isn’t used against me, what about her children? Especially if she married someone in the family. Couldn’t it mean my grandchildren, or nephews even, could take the throne from me too? She’s dangerous. Any fertility goddess is dangerous to us, Hades. You said you understood this.”

Hades was trying to pull away from him, breathing heavy.

“Let him go,” Persephone shouted.

Zeus brushed Hades’ hair back, like he cared, like he needed to force him to remember. “You can’t have children. Persephone was supposed to be harmless here in the Underworld, here with you.”

Hades cried out and Zeus let him go. Hades fell against the back of the couch, legs folding under him. Sweat dripped off his chin. But before Persephone could reach him, Zeus stood in her way.

“So who did you fuck?” he asked.

“We were going to tell you,” Persephone said, glancing at him before focusing on Hades again. Hades dropped to the floor with a thud, holding his head. She tried to run around Zeus, but electricity jumped off his body and snapped against the floor, stopping her. She froze as thunder rucked against the walls, windows shuddering. She looked at Zeus, focused and furious. The Dread Queen was rolling forward.

“Hades and I think that your interpretation of what Gaia said is too broad,” she said, seeing crimson. “He remembered her telling you it would be one of your sons who tries to overtake you. Not our son, if we even have a son.”

“Not to mention, this is entirely the wrong time for this conversation.” Eros loomed beside them, pink wings spread and eyes lined in lights. He was mad. Very mad. And Persephone had never been more glad to see him drop in so suddenly.

“Zeus, you selfish bastard,” Eros growled.

“How dare you-” Zeus somehow found the nerve to be offended.

“You really are so scared of losing your throne that you can’t see what you’re doing?” Eros pointed to Hades, who was trying to at least get to his knees but still had one hand pressed to his head. He was drenched in sweat.

Persephone tried to step around Zeus again, but another bolt of electricity barred her from him. She smelled broken ozone, which was like rotten eggs, just before another peal of thunder shook the windows. The Dread Queen didn’t like being held back from Hades. Not one bit. Zeus must have realized his mistake because actual fear crossed his face moments before vines slammed into his chest and hurled him across the room.

“Do you want to see what an angry fertility goddess looks like?” she asked, wrapping Zeus in black vines and crimson thorns. They tore at his clothes, nicking his flesh. It was satisfying to see ichor stain his white suit even more. “You think you can tell your brother what he can and can’t have? All because you’re paranoid I will be used to take your crown? It’s insanity. You and my mother need to be less worried about how I can be used, or what my children will be like, and leave. Us. Alone.”

“Persephone,” Eros called.

She ignored him, tightening the vines around Zeus. Brighter, sharper flashes of lightening reached out from Zeus’ body, spreading like roots under his skin.

“It isn’t all about you, Zeus,” she said.

Thorns sprouted from the wall behind him, piercing his back. He grit his teeth and a lightning bolt shattered the dining table.

“Persephone!” Eros shouted.

“Hades thought you would understand, that he could talk you down from your fear,” she said. “He agreed to your terms at first because he loves you, because he believed you knew how unreasonable you were being. He didn’t think you were serious.”

Zeus cut through the vines with an explosion of white. Static held up her hair.

“He never would have agreed to have children if he thought you would try and hurt us,” Persephone said.

Zeus’ glowing eyes faded and Persephone felt rain hit her skin … or at least just realized it was raining in the house. She glanced up at the clouds churning beneath the ceiling, blinking against the droplets as the indoor storm began to break apart. When she looked back at Zeus, his head was tilted and he was more … himself.

“Hades said you were being dramatic,” she said, feeling the Dread Queen calm down too.

Zeus cracked a smile, a real one, and chuckled. He ran a hand through his soaked hair and shook his head.

“I was being dramatic, wasn’t I?” he asked.

Persephone smiled with him, glad something was finally going right.

“Gaia did say it would be one of my own sons,” Zeus said and looked pained again.

“Persephone.” Eros sounded winded.

She turned and her heart stuttered so powerfully it made her dizzy. Eros held Hades in his arms. Ichor stained Hades’ shirt. And from the gold dripping onto the floor, he was wounded on his back too. Thankfully he was awake still, though drifting. His eyes were closed but his brow was cinched in pain. And then she realized … the wounds on his body were the same she put on Zeus.

Persephone dropped to her knees and pressed her hands against Hades’ chest, urging him to heal. She watched his torn skin bind back together. She tried to calm her breathing as she waited for him to open his eyes, guilt squeezing her entire chest to the point where she began to see black dots.

“Love,” she called softly, tracing his lips with shaking fingers. “Can you hear me?”

\----

“He’ll wake up.” Eros leaned against the kitchen counter as Persephone pulled vegetables and spices from cupboards and the refrigerator. She was still crying, the tears having boiled out of her the longer she called for Hades to open his eyes. It hurt to breathe, knowing that she lost her patience with Zeus and hurting him meant hurting her king, her fiancé. Her throat ached at her grief, at her absolute rage with herself for not stopping Zeus and his selfish tirade sooner. She kept seeing Hades holding his head as he fell to the floor, the sweat on his neck.

“What if he won’t wake up,” she whispered, bracing herself on the sink. “What if he won’t wake up for ages?”

“He isn’t in hibernation,” Eros said. “He started to go into shock, but I don’t think he slipped over the edge… But he was close to it.”

Persephone glanced over to the couch where Hades rested. Zeus was still there, sitting on the ottoman next to him. Zeus looked at her and she saw guilt there too. He knew he fucked up. Selfish bastard that he was.

“I wasn’t aware that Zeus made you and Hades agree not to have children,” Eros said, arms folded. “You know that’s insane, right?”

She shook her head, not wanting to talk about it again.

“Zeus was told that one of his sons would overthrow him and in the past that was always done with the help of a fertility goddess.” She waved at herself. “He just got wound up in his head and took it too far. Hades was right though. Zeus could be talked down. I just didn’t want it to be like this.”

“Is that why you aren’t talking to your mom?” Eros asked. “You haven’t seen her since the trial… Is this why? I seem to remember a very public argument about something like this.”

Persephone nodded.

“She’s paranoid that I’ll be used for my power,” Persephone said. “She doesn’t understand how safe I am with Hades.” She faced Eros, holding tomatoes that she still needed to chop for dinner. “She won’t hear me when I tell her that though. She is convinced that he’s using me.”

The tears wouldn’t stop. It blurred her vision and she took a shuddering gasp. Eros took the tomatoes from her, wrapping her into a hug. She clung to him slowly, feeling herself crack just before a wheezing sob ripped from her lungs. She fell against him and the tears felt like molten lava, burning her skin on their way down.

“You know, there is a good thing that will come from this,” Zeus said.

She pulled from Eros to look at the bastard. Zeus stood awkwardly in the kitchen, hands in his pockets.

“Oh?” Eros asked.

“If Hades is in hibernation, I owe him to … help you with the kid,” Zeus said. “If he doesn’t wake up, Persephone, you and that baby are family. I promise we won’t leave you to … raise it alone.”

Persephone hated him. She knew what he said was supposed to be comforting, but she hated him for it. As if sensing this, Eros reached out for Zeus.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Eros said. “We’ll come back and help Persephone with dinner in a bit.” Eros looked at her and then the two were gone in a blurred flash.

Persephone rested a hand against her uterus, feeling the heat of life inside. It was small but comforting. Fresh tears fell at the thought that Hades wouldn’t be there to help her raise the child that he so desperately wanted to have. And to think Zeus wanted to be involved out of guilty obligation … she squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to imagine that at all. It was too painful.

“Persephone?”

She looked up, heart racing, hope so strong that she couldn’t take in a breath. But there Hades was, sitting up on the couch, looking back at her. His hair was a beautiful mess, brows raised in confusion and concern, but those eyes … they were open. They were bright. They held her gaze as she hurried to him, breaking into a run until she rounded the couch and fell at his feet. She gripped his knees, tears getting in the way of seeing him clearly. She wiped at them and laughed out of pure relief.

“Hey,” she finally breathed, leaning into his big hand that thumbed away her tears. She pressed that warmth against her face, turning to kiss his palm. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

He shook his head. “My brother was being obstinate. I’m glad you put him in his place.”

She bit her bottom lip, concentrating on him. “You know, what Zeus said about me cheating on you … it wasn’t true.” She wished she could stop crying. “I could never….”

Hades reached down and pulled her into his lap. She saw tears of his own weep beside his nose, but then he held her so tightly it was almost as if he remembered everything.

“I love you,” he whispered and she felt that powerful hope again. It sang in her veins, made her perk up, twisting to look at him. His eyes were sorrowful though. “I don’t remember you. I don’t remember anything past being sent to the Underworld… I don’t know enough to even talk about what Zeus said and I’m sorry for that.”

The tears were bitter and she scrunched her nose against the searing pain in her chest. She clutched at that pain, needing it to go away, needing Hades – all of him – back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, gentle as always. And then she understood his tears. He wanted to remember and it hurt him that he didn’t.

The realization broke her heart.

\----

Persephone worked on making his favorite dinner, which was pasta and her own invention of vegetarian sauce. She watched him putter around the house, staying close as he pulled sheets off more of the furniture. He dusted and cleaned, quiet and always in motion. It was comforting, in a way. And so were his sweet little glances.

As she stirred the sauce over the stove, she remembered how he looked at her when he said not to worry about Zeus if they did manage to get pregnant.

_The smile on his face was not quite 100 percent scoundrel, but damn close._

_“He’s a drama queen,” Hades whispered against her hip, pressing kisses against her skin as they lounged in bed. Petals fluttered around them, bright red and pink ones. “Even when he made us promise not to have kids, he knew he was being unreasonable, that he had no basis and was projecting his fears onto us. It won’t be hard to talk him down.” Hades wound his fingers between hers, pulling her hand to his lips. “Besides, Zeus loves family. He won’t turn down more nieces or nephews.”_

And he had been right. Persephone knew Hades would have handled Zeus’ explosive discovery of their pregnancy so much better than she had. That she had even been able to pull him back at all spoke to how much easier it would have been for Hades who knew him far better. She munched on celery as she thought about it, finding herself glad now that it was out of the way.

Now all they needed to focus on was getting Hades’ memory back. And dealing with the faceless god.

She sighed, feeling the pull of exhaustion.

“Love,” she called. “Can you stir? I need to lay down.”

Hades was there in an instant, taking the wooden spoon from her and leading her carefully to the couch.

“Do you need water or tea?” he asked as she sat down. She shook her head, smiling as he draped a blanket over her. She wanted to look at him, to kiss him, but her body was dragging her away. She wondered if she should be worried and wondered when Zeus and Eros would be back so Hades wouldn’t be alone as she took a nap, but the blanket was warm and pushed her worries aside.

It was just a nap. And the other two would be back soon. She was sure of it.


	25. Judgement Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter until you find out the identity of the faceless one. Loving the theories, especially those who are close to figuring it out.
> 
> Spoil me with comments please! We're coming up on my favorite part. Maybe two more chapters until we get to the scene that's been haunting me.
> 
> Also, violence. You've been warned. There be violence and gore in this chapter.

“Persephone?”

It was strange. She was comfortable, aware she was laying on the couch, but she couldn’t move her arms.

“Persephone, you need to wake up.”

She couldn’t move her legs. Actually, she couldn’t move anything.

“I need to get you out of here.”

Persephone tried to lift her head, open her eyes, but couldn’t. She focused, feeling her brows knot together in her efforts, but she was powerless… Paralyzed.

Oh gods.

No.

“You aren’t safe here.” Hades sounded worried. More than that. He sounded afraid. She could smell him, all woodsmoke and the crispness of winter. She wanted to bury her face in him, breathe in his familiarity and let him wrap her in his arms, protective and loving. Home. He was home. She felt his fingers stroke her cheek, pushing hair behind her ear. She sighed, comforted. She would move after another nap.

“Sweetness,” he begged. “People are here. They’re trying to get inside the house.”

Her heart hammered in her chest at that and she tried to get up, tried to open her eyes, do anything. Nothing. It reminded her of Hades when she found him in his car on their front lawn, clothes ripped and lipstick kisses all over his body.

Drugged.

She was drugged.

“The faceless god is here,” Hades told her. “I need you to go to Eros. Go anywhere but here.”

The Dread Queen tried to push through the haze weighing her down, but not even her rage could burn through the drugs keeping her paralyzed. And then she heard it – sawing and crunching. All around the house. People were cutting through the brambles and vines she put up to protect him. There was so many working on breaking in to reach him. They were surrounded.

It was not just a handful of mortals this time.

This sounded like an army.

And from what she could tell, Eros and Zeus were not back yet. She and Hades were alone. And she was all but useless just when he needed her most.

With a surge of effort, she managed to open her eyes. Hades knelt beside her, focused on the front door even though there was now knocking on the walls and scraping on the windows. It wouldn’t be long before they were inside.

He turned and saw her then, brows raising in relief. He gripped her hands, which were folded on her stomach. The longer he studied her, the more he realized she wasn’t going to be moving or going anywhere. A darkness descended on his eyes, which burned a determined red, glinting like hard stones. She saw that he was steeling himself to protect her from what was going to breach their walls and she hated that he would be fighting alone. She was so tired of him being alone. Remembering how he dangled in that chamber beneath the house, hands chained over his head … how painfully alone he looked. She remembered him struggling on the bed after Minthe … and how alone he seemed. Then when she found him in the bathroom, after Eros forced his way into their nightmare, how Hades was taking off his bandages as everyone in the house lost their damn minds. He looked alone then too.

She studied him now, the elegant sweep of his hair and the few locks that dripped forward into his eyes. Those eyes were beautiful as they blazed like the tracks of Helios. The house filled with shouts and he clenched his jaw, keeping eye contact with her like it would be for the last time… She would remember this like she remembered those other times. How alone he seemed. How on his own he shouldn’t have to be.

But she couldn’t move.

“They won’t hurt you,” he promised.

The windows behind him shattered, glass spraying inward like a wave hit the house.

And then she saw his god wrath. As Hades turned, black and deep blue spread across his skin like spilled ink. He looked like the furthest corners of the sky when night arrived, the colors she loved to watch from their roof because they felt peaceful. As he stood, specks of diamond flickered in the lights as if a universe spanned his body. The pale blue of forget-me-nots illuminated off him, outlining his flexed shoulders and arms.

He raised those arms as men tumbled through the windows.

Radiant blue fire exploded.

Hades was the epicenter. It was all Persephone saw before the blast blinded her, before the explosion of power seared her ears with the scream of souls leaving mortal bodies. She blinked through the swirling white, feeling like the realm was tilting on an axis. It was impossible to know how quickly or slowly time passed, just that she couldn’t get her arms to move. The Dread Queen roared into the din, drowning out the high-pitched keen trapped in her ears.

Then she saw Hades again, floating over her with his arms still outstretched. Blue fire licked his arms, dancing between the glinting diamonds in his skin. His hair whipped about his head in the fiery wind.

Time stuttered as he turned to look down at her. The fierceness in that face was not any she had seen before. It was the face of Hades, the god who earned his place as ruler of the dead. It chilled her looking into those white, blank eyes, their home burning to cinders all around them. She breathed in the spiraling black smoke as it was sucked skyward in the wind, tearing wood beams and pieces of people into the darkness above. She looked down, past him, and saw the mortals being ripped to shreds as they pushed toward the house. One mortal shoved against the wind near where the front door had been, skin peeling off bone like a burn victim. Hair sizzled into ash. A scream was stolen from parting lips, fractured teeth. The mortal reached out an arm and it was ripped off in the same breath. Its socket bled, red liquid pulled upward into the gravity of Hades’ wrath.

It was horrifying.

It was amazing.

Persephone looked back to Hades, the sudden mourning in his gaze breaking her heart. Even as powerful as he was, no one had his heart. He didn’t want to be doing this.

But he was protecting her.

She tried to move again, but it was useless.

Persephone glanced behind him, afraid of what the faceless god was really up to. They were too calculating. This must have been expected. They hadn’t tried to drug Hades, after all.

But what she saw didn’t make her feel more prepared. The black hills around their home crawled with mortals. How the faceless god gathered this many was beyond her… And why they continued clawing through the dirt of the Underworld, hellbent on reaching its wrathful king, scared her more than anything.

Hades followed her worried gaze and then looked back at her.

“They won’t touch you,” he promised again.

As if needing to end her fear, his feet touched the ground. In that instant, the entire realm quaked. The screech of tearing crystal was deafening, but did not compare to what she saw.

Crystal spires erupted out of the hills, spearing through each mortal in almost the same moment.

She stopped breathing.

The residual crack of crystal rearranging echoed through the shadows. The hills weren’t hills anymore, but a gory field of glittering flatirons, each adorned with draped bodies.

Thousands.

If she could stand, if she could look around the entire ruin of what had been their home, she knew she would see thousands more.

A chill coursed through her and she the fact that she wasn’t afraid … scared her. Rather, she was proud. This god, who turned to kneel beside her, worried and gentle as he rubbed ash from her hands, loved her. This king wanted her and protected her.

And he didn’t even remember her.

The Dread Queen fought to move, fought to wrap him in her arms, to protect him like he so desperately needed.

“I know this is just a fraction of what you were known for in the war,” someone said. Persephone’s heart raced. She needed to turn, to see who it was. That voice. She knew that voice.

Hades must have known it too. He closed his eyes slowly, not bothering to turn and look.

“Cerberus,” he acknowledged, bringing one of Persephone’s hands to his lips. He just barely brushed his lips against her fingers.

“Even so,” the faceless god said, still out of sight, “terrifying, isn’t it Persephone?”

The tears that burned her eyes were out of pure hate. This wasn’t happening. She needed Hades to fight, to bring back that rage and protect himself. She tried to scream because she needed to fucking move, to do something. She started hyperventilating, terrified what she would see, horrified that she would be unable to do anything to save him … again.

“Aidoneus,” the faceless god called, but Hades didn’t look away from Persephone. He stayed kneeling beside her, gray ash heating her cheeks as specks of their home were tossed in the dying wind.

“Hades,” the faceless one called again. “I’ve come for you. It’s time for your judgement.”


	26. Messing up the mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - rape is discussed. You can skip to the end if you want and enjoy more fan art! Not sure how you all feel about my goofy doodles, but there is some at the end because why not?
> 
> Your comments make me so happy! Thank you and keep commenting! We aren't at the end yet. Things are just going to get crazier.

Hades kept his attention on her. He was focused, determined about something. Persephone glared, not at him but at the fact that she could do absolutely nothing. The soft ash drifting around them made it surreal. This couldn’t be happening.

“Cerberus,” Hades said, still not taking his glittering red eyes away from Persephone, though he did tilt his head. “…Cerberus… You have my dog.”

Persephone’s heart jolted into a fast staccato, hope so strong it hurt. Did he remember?

“I told you as much,” the faceless god said, still out of her eyeline. “I told you to call me ‘Cerberus’ because you trusted me like you trust that three-headed guardian.” There was a pause, but not a silent one. Persephone heard the faceless gods’ hesitation, heavy like the stench of the charred skeleton of a house around them. “Hades, what do you remember?”

Hades took in Persephone’s face, rubbing her fingers as if he could get her to move. He was afraid for her. She wanted to scream, to shake him, make him realize he was the one in danger.

“I remember being convinced to rule the Underworld,” Hades said. “Zeus gave Cerberus to me so I wouldn’t be alone.”

Persephone felt the sting of tears. He never deserved being alone. Of all the gods, of all the beings to live, he deserved so much more than how he was treated time and time again. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force her muscles back to life. They didn’t listen to her. She wondered how this even happened, if there were boxes with vapors being released like back at their other home.

Then she remembered what Hecate said, that she never came by the house.

But Hades told her Hecate brought food … vegetables for her.

The faceless one had this planned the whole time. Hades wouldn’t have wanted breakfast. He didn’t have anything but coffee.

And this meant Eros was drugged too. He ate the omelet.

A sob choked up her throat, strangled because she couldn’t open her mouth and had no control of her vocal chords. Eros… He was not going to be coming back any time soon if he was drugged. Her hope that he and Zeus would be back shortly was scorched away like the mortals who tried to leap through the windows.

Hades truly was alone.

The Dread Queen struggled with her, thrashing in her mind for control. She felt a frantic heat in her chest.

“Hades,” the faceless one called again, but Hades scowled and the ground beneath them creaked. It felt as if he were about to open it to a darker level of the Underworld, a place that would eat them whole. The tearing boom silenced the faceless one and Persephone wanted desperately to see their face, to not only know who had been torturing them but to see if they were afraid.

Because they should be scared.

She wanted to smile at Hades, to encourage him. The power he controlled was wild and the Dread Queen preened at seeing it, aroused even as she kept fighting to join him.

“Did you do this to Persephone?” Hades asked in the quiet that followed.

“Well, isn’t she the reason for all of this?”

Persephone stopped struggling.

Who was this god?

Hades’ scowl deepened, looking very much like the mortal’s version of the devil.

“Oh Hades,” the faceless one sighed and Persephone heard feet shift quietly through the ash layered on the dirt beneath them. They sat in one of the chairs that must have remained untouched by the fires. “I would never hurt her. During all of this, has she once been injured?”

Hades’ scowl turned thoughtful. He shook his head “no.”

“Have I once threatened her?”

He shook his head again.

“Of course not,” they said. “Why would I? Aidoneus, she is the one you’ve hurt.”

Hades’ eyes widened in slow horror. Persephone didn’t understand.

“You don’t remember, but when you first saw her a year and a half ago … you like to say you fell in love,” the faceless one said, sounding bitter. “But in truth, you became obsessed.”

Hades was shaking his head again, this time in dismay. The faceless one ignored his quiet objections.

“You took her to the Underworld, against her will,” they continued. “You raped her.”

Hades dropped her hand. Tears gathered in his eyes as he stared at Persephone, looking gray. Persephone kept fighting the paralysis, but all her efforts managed were tears of her own. She wanted to take his face in her hands, kiss his horror away, protect him from the monster digging into his head.

“Do you know what happens when someone is captured?” the faceless one asked.

Hades didn’t respond, simply sat back on his feet, putting space between him and Persephone, moving slowly like he might hurt her. He still didn’t take his eyes off her.

“To survive, they subconsciously find ways to connect to their captor. They look for anything to make them seem like more of person, less of an object. That can lead to a sort of brainwashing, making them believe they really have a connection to their captor when they don’t.” The faceless one softened their voice and clothes rustled as if they leaned forward. “She doesn’t love you, Hades. She has just been trying to survive.”

The heartbreak on Hades’ face would haunt her forever. Tears fell, rolling into tiny diamonds down his cheeks.

The faceless god stood. Persephone could hear them walk again, though it was still out of her eyeline. They were pacing, somewhere behind her.

“Someone tried to rescue her from you,” they continued. “Do you remember Apollo?”

Hades’ brow cinched and he shook his head “no.”

“I’m not surprised,” the faceless one said. “He isn’t as old as you or your reign over this dark hole. But by the time he tried to rescue her, you had twisted Persephone’s perception so wholly that she helped you ruin Apollo. Do you know what you did?”

Hades didn’t bother responding this time. The pain settled in the crease across his nose and between his brows, a look of self-disgust. Persephone wanted to rip the faceless gods’ heart out, if they even had one.

“You framed Apollo for her rape,” they said and Persephone’s tears fell for a whole new reason. She closed her eyes to fight the memories surging forward. “He did nothing to wrong her.” Another sob rolled up her throat. “And you sent Apollo to Tartarus for trying to save her. An innocent. Meanwhile, you kept Persephone to rape again and again.”

Persephone looked at Hades, needing to tell him it wasn’t true. None of it. But Hades’ eyes were downcast, no longer locked on her. Diamond tears dropped fast, his hands shaking as they fisted against his knees.

“But you know all about rape, don’t you?” the faceless one asked. “Your father had you listen when he raped your mother, back when you were in his stomach. Do you remember?”

Hades pressed a fist to his mouth, jaw clenched. His whole body trembled in grief. Persephone physically hurt from watching this, from listening to this. She hadn’t known this part of Hades’ imprisonment. To think that he had to endure that too shattered her heart, her bones, and she saw crimson. The faceless god needed to stop. Hades didn’t deserve to be put through any of this.

“At least, that’s the rumor.” The faceless god leaned on the couch behind Persephone, so close she could almost feel them breathe though still couldn’t see them. “Is it true?”

Hades nodded. Persephone sobbed again. He looked alone, kneeling there crying, surrounded by ash, his mind being abused by someone who hated him, who just wanted him to suffer.

The faceless one hummed, like they assumed as much.

“Well, like I told you over cupcakes, you seem like someone who wants to be good … or at least you did. But look what you’ve done to these mortals. Slowly turning into your father, aren’t you? Looking like him isn’t enough. You really are his wicked son. You even found a goddess to ensnare. Kronos would be proud.”

Hades was trembling harder, like a child trapped in the cold.

The faceless god was walking again. Persephone seethed, needing to see them, to finally put a name to the person she hated as much as she hated Apollo.

“So do you understand why you need to be judged?” they asked.

Hades was shaking too much, old wounds on his soul being torn open. Persephone saw how overwhelmed he was. He couldn’t answer. Hair hung in his face, shadowing it.

“I think you know what my judgement is,” the faceless one said. “I have to protect Persephone. I have to save her from you. And I have to save my brother.”

No.

The god stepped behind Hades, towering over him like a wraith. Persephone could see them now.

It was Artemis.


	27. Race to Tartarus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, this group has to be my favorite. So glad I decided to throw this little fanfic idea on A03! And your comments make my day. You have no idea. Thank you!
> 
> But now, EldritchWhore gave us (and me!) a huge surprise! Check out The Faceless One, which is some art for this fic! I was floored and thrilled to see it. THANK YOU!
> 
> Speaking of fan art, I tucked into art this past week so you'll find a bunch of stuff from me at the bottom of this new chapter. I'm working on panels for an upcoming part of this story to try and deliver a scene as I see it. This scene (coming in a couple more chapters) has been haunting me and I want to do it just right. Digital art is new to me though, so any constructive criticism (or not constructive, I have thick skin) let me know. My art skills rest in the messy universe of oil and charcoal, but I'm having fun with this new medium.
> 
> And maybe a tiny spoiler warning for this chapter. Last one, promise. It is a hint at another idea (based around The Trial) for the Lore Olympus sandbox, one I'll chase another day. But thought I'd drop a warning for non-fast passers. Not a big warning, just want to be sure.
> 
> Happy reading!

Artemis lifted something that shone bright against the pressing shadows of the Underworld. Persephone wasn’t sure what it was. All she could do was try focusing through her furious, hateful tears, blinking hard to make sure Artemis is who she saw. But the purple God of the Hunt never faded, never shifted. The betrayal stung and it tasted bitter.

“Do you know what this is, Hades?” Artemis asked, still standing behind him as he knelt in the ash near the couch where Persephone laid paralyzed. His head was down, despondent, accepting everything she said. Persephone and the Dread Queen fought again, needing to protect him. He was too vulnerable for this, his mind too pliant from the Lethe. She wanted to scream just to drown Artemis out, but all she could do was lay there with tears rolling down her cheeks.

Artemis kicked Hades in the side to get him to respond. Persephone’s eyes rolled crimson, her breathing getting heavier as the Dread Queen struggled. She remembered the cracking whip that Artemis used on Hades, how she tortured him, and she tasted ichor. Its tang gave her some strength. She managed to flex her jaw.

“Hades, don’t make me touch you,” Artemis warned. “Look at me.”

He didn’t. He stayed where he was, head down, hair hiding his face as diamond tears dripped off his chin. The trauma she had inflicted on his mind had all but shut him down.

Gold glowed in Artemis’ eyes, the only warning before she lurched forward and wrapped the white rope around his neck. His hands came up but not fast enough. His fingers grappled at the rope strangling him, unable to get enough of a hold to pull it back so he could breathe. Persephone’s eyes widened in horror, not wanting to see this, not ever wanting this to happen.

But Artemis drew him close, bending him back so she could speak into his ear.

“I don’t trust that you won’t change your mind about what needs to be done to punish you,” she said, giving the rope a jerk. He grit his teeth, face darkening as he tried to breathe. “So this rope is my security. It will protect me from you. Do you understand?”

When he didn’t respond fast enough, she tightened the binding. He winced and nodded.

“You used this rope on my mother,” Artemis mused, though nothing about her face was calm. Tears pricked along the sides of her eyes. “A ‘titan binding,’ I think it’s called. You took her, and no one has seen her since.” Artemis wrung the rope around his throat even further, breaking skin. Ichor dribbled past the shining threads and Persephone hissed at seeing it. “So, if it worked for my mother, it should make you easy enough to handle.”

Persephone glared. She knew where Artemis’ titan mother was, but it was best for everyone that she stayed where Hades left her.

“Is she in Tartarus too?” Artemis asked, almost whispered.

Hades didn’t respond. Of course he didn’t. He wouldn’t remember. Artemis seemed to realize this, because she tied the rope around his neck with rough, angry jerks.

“It doesn’t matter,” Artemis said. “I will find her soon enough. But first, you go to Tartarus.”

Artemis stepped around Hades, grabbing one of his hands and wrapping the rope around his wrist. He watched her work, glancing up at her face like a wounded child afraid of what would happen next. Artemis tightened his binding and then grabbed his other hand. The cords connecting his neck and hands looked loose, but then Artemis snapped her fingers and they dragged his hands together. The rope around his neck strangled him further and his face darkened.

Artemis snapped her fingers again and the ropes loosened enough for him to breathe and use his hands again. He took in air slowly, fingers shaking.

“If you try anything, I can stop you,” Artemis warned, getting to her feet, and putting distance between them.

Hades stayed where he was, looking at the ropes around his wrists with abject horror. Persephone willed him to raise his gaze to hers, as if she could undo everything Artemis said to him if he would just connect with her. But he didn’t. He kept his hair in his eyeline and drew in a trembling breath.

“And what are we doing in Tartarus?” he asked.

Artemis pulled him to his feet and then shoved him toward the burnt-out doorframe. He stumbled back.

“Don’t you already know?” she asked. “I’m taking you back to your father. It’s where you belong.”

He pursed his lips, closing his eyes in dread. “If we open his cell door, he might escape. Are you prepared for that?” His tone was measured and cool. It made Persephone shiver and hopeful that he was coming back to himself.

“Then we will just have to shove you in quickly,” Artemis said with a smile.

Hades didn’t argue. The resulting panic helped Persephone move a few fingers, but just barely. The queen was rearing like a demon during an exorcism, screaming for control. Persephone was sweating at the efforts.

Hades finally looked at her then and stepped closer. Artemis got in his way, shaking her head. Persephone wanted to rip her to pieces and imagined breaking her bones like she had snapped Minthe’s. But she held Hades’ gaze, begging him to let his power rage rampant, to realize he was being lied to, that he didn’t have to go anywhere without a fight.

He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something but closed it after a moment. Then tried again.

“Please,” he said so softly she barely heard him. “Please, be free. I want y-you to have everything you have ever wanted.” He stopped short on what must have been an apology, but chewed on the words, reorganizing them. “Don’t forgive me. I don’t deserve that. B-but for what it’s worth, I am … sorry.”

“It isn’t worth anything,” Artemis said.

Hades nodded, accepting that too. Persephone felt blood weep from her eyes. More fingers twitched on her frozen hands.

“It’s time,” Artemis said. “Are you ready?”

He bowed his head, offering no resistance. As if satisfied, Artemis turned toward Persephone, kneeling with a sad smile. Tears bunched in her eyes, spilling over.

“I should have been there for you more than I was when you first came to Olympus,” she whispered. “I let you down. But I’m saving you now.” Artemis wiped her tears off her cheeks with a frustrated huff, then smiled with some excitement. “Before I drop him in with Kronos, I’m going to use him to finally free Apollo too. We’ll have him back, Perse. He’ll help you shake off what Hades did to your mind. He’ll help you be yourself again.”

Persephone tried to grab her throat, but her arms wouldn’t budge. Only her hands flinched in the boiling anger. Artemis leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

“We’ll be back for you. Me and Apollo. And Hades will finally be back where he belongs.”

Artemis stood and shouted at Hades to move. Persephone’s chest burned. It felt like her soul was being shoved through a grater, shredding piece by piece. She wanted to see Hades, to try begging him to stay, but he was gone. They were gone.

All that was left around her was drifting ash. And the stars.

And the screaming in her mind.

\----

Every passing second weighed on her chest like an iron brick. Every passing minute tasted like blood. She tried not to count them, tried to expend every inch of energy to fighting the drug in her veins, but she counted. And screamed to the darkness.

Ten minutes so far.

She managed to move a hand.

The burning remains of the house crackled around her, like it thought it was funny that she could do nothing to save her love. She thought back to the trial, to what Hades did to save her. Even as upset as Demeter was, she made only one comment that praised Hades and what he did for them.

“One day you’ll have a chance to be there for him like he has been for you,” Demeter said.

Persephone hung to those words, the only positivity from her mother since leaving the mortal realm in what felt like a lifetime ago. And now her time has come and all she could do was watch the ash float by.

Twenty minutes.

She lifted an arm. The triumph that soared through her stomach made her laugh and she tried to call up vines to carry her after them, but the drugs kept her powers muted too. Of course. The drug had first been meant for Hades, back in the beginning of Artemis’ plan, and she wouldn’t want arguably the most fearsome god in the pantheon using his powers against her. Not if she had to drug him to subdue him.

Persephone could only imagine his absolute frustration under the influence of this, unable to fight back to the extent that he could when he was chained from the ceiling or tied to that bed.

She took a steadying breath but coughed on the ash. The charred wood singed the hairs in her nose, burning her throat.

Thirty minutes.

“Hades?”

Persephone’s heart raced. She was able to turn her head, spotting Zeus standing in the ruined living room. It hardly looked like a living room at all now, just tilted, blackened beams that bent under the wind. Zeus’ hair rolled with the ash in the air and terrified eyes found hers. He didn’t come closer.

“The faceless one took him, didn’t they?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Eros is like you right now … drugged,” Zeus said, hands fisted at his sides. “Damnit.” He exhaled and electricity danced through his hair, lifting it. When he looked back at her, his pupils glowed white. “Are they on their way to Tartarus?”

She nodded again and moved a leg. The Dread Queen pushed for more freedom, but it was all she could manage.

Zeus visibly swallowed, a vein appearing along his clenched jaw.

“I’ll be back,” he said. “And I’m bringing everyone with me.”

A crack of lighting blinded her. A purple haze descended just before the boom of thunder. It rattled the ash, tearing ozone. It smelled like the end of things, like the ruin of a world. Her world. She had to get off the couch. She couldn’t wait for Zeus to show up.

She knew the haunted look in his eyes. It had been the same in Poseidon’s at the mention of Kronos. It chilled her to see them like this, that they knew what it cost to trap Kronos and she didn’t have any concept of the horror except the history books. She knew those texts didn’t hold everything, didn’t hold their traumas. And here Artemis gambled with opening his cell just to torment Hades, putting them all at risk. And she was too hellbent on revenge over some made-up reality spun by Apollo to see it.

And Hades didn’t have time to wait for Zeus. Seeing his father … who knows what it might do to his memory, let alone the fresh hell it would bring.

The Dread Queen seethed, burning, growing. Persephone watched her arms lengthen, then her legs. As she stretched, she felt the veil of paralysis fade. She wasn’t as tall as she was during her act of wrath, but enough to metabolize the drug. She stood and turned toward the glittering metropolis, looking over the hills of crystal monuments topped with human bodies. Tower 4 and her pink tree stood out.

Tartarus.

She took a step forward and fell. Her body shrank back to her tiny size, leaving her shaking, but still free. She dragged her face through the ash, red vines curling away from her through the floating dust.

Her wings spread and black claws gored through the tips of her fingers.

She was going after Hades alone.


	28. Hall of Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for this chapter. Please remember the tags for this story. There are themes of rape here. Could be disturbing for some (it's disturbing for everyone, let's be honest). If you want to skip it, avoid the third scene and just read the last couple paragraphs if you want bypass it. 
> 
> Otherwise, we are getting closer to my favorite part! And I have a medical procedure tomorrow so will update this story as soon as I can, but may be a bit slower than usual. But who knows, maybe your comments will help me heal faster :)

A bit of the drugs lingered, pulling on Persephone as she flew. Sometimes she had to walk, but however she traveled it was always toward Tower 4. She wanted to rip her way inside the skyscraper, to even fizz onto the street in front of it, but she faltered. The drugs made her tumble from the sky like a bird with too many feathers plucked from its wings.

She trudged now on her feet through the metropolis, almost feeling the need to crawl, but managed to scrape strength from somewhere and stay standing. She focused on the swaying tree that gripped the dark corners of Tartarus, breathing heavy.

The tree beckoned her, pulsing, holding words of some kind of horror. She wasn’t sure if that horror came from the imprisoned souls and gods below it, or if the unimaginable had already happened and Hades was … gone.

She pushed on, muttering to herself that he was fine, he was fine, _he was fine_.

Hades was fine.

She could still save him.

Taking a break to ease her aching muscles was not an option, even as she shoved forward off the side of a street vendor’s pavilion. Underworld residents stared after her, stepping out of her way.

“Dread Queen,” she heard one woman whisper.

“Has the king been found yet?” someone else asked. “Is she going to save him?”

“She might know where he is,” was the reply, excited, nervous. “Should we get help?”

The scrape of metal on stone drew her attention. She looked back and saw that she was dragging a scythe. It sparked on the sidewalk, cutting a trail in the red thorns curling in her path. Those angry vines trailed like a ballgown’s train, its length that of a cathedral. The scythe shredded a line through it. She pulled it upright and leaned on the wooden handle. Blood dripped from her eyes and splat on the pavement. She stepped over the droplets, pressing forward.

“I wonder if she will kill Minthe,” someone tried to whisper, poorly. “Isn’t that who took the king?”

“That’s what the news said,” came a response. “I heard Minthe raped him.”

Persephone turned to stare the nymphs down, silencing their gossip. She could not fathom how that bit of information leaked into the public. The blue and green nymphs froze under her attention, then shivered.

“Kill Minthe,” the blue one called out to her. “We want our king back.”

Persephone smiled and tilted her head. She didn’t respond, just flared her wings and floated up. If only she could turn Artemis into a plant, rip her limb from limb, and watch her realize how badly she fucked up…. The trail of vines swung beneath her and she saw her reflection in the false windows decorating Tower 4. They were there for aesthetic. Obviously.

She stood outside the roof entrance, which was made of marble and tucked inside the trunk of the tree. Hades had made her promise never to go into Tartarus. A fertility goddess attracted too much attention from the dead.

The splat of blood from her eyes centered her. It was soft. It was angry.

It was the Dread Queen’s barely controlled fury.

She wasn’t the spring goddess right now. She was the bringer of death.

The shades inside Tartarus would not overwhelm her this time.

She hit the door with the scythe, throwing it open with a bang. Darkness welcomed her. It breathed with the sigh of bored souls. She remembered how Hades told her that the more dangerous souls would be found near the lower levels of the tower. She imagined that Kronos would be kept at the very bottom then, if not deep underground.

Persephone stepped inside and the door slammed closed behind her.

\----

The Underworld was inherently cold. But inside Tartarus, sub-temperatures chilled Persephone. The frozen exhale from the Dread Queen turned to blood. She watched the mist coagulate and fall, drenching the front of her dress. It smelled like iron and sulfate. It smelled like the hell that mortals so deeply feared.

Shades rolled in her periphery as she hurried through the first floor. The rainforest she sprung from nothing the one and only time she was ever here had stayed alive. Pink roots coiled along the floor from her tree, glowing. She followed the thicker roots to a stairwell and shivered.

She spotted a door with a glowing grid in front of it. She rushed forward, but then the shades moved to block her way. The rattle of bones put a chill down her neck. She couldn’t focus on any one soul or desiccated body, but they wanted her.

They wanted life.

Persephone put a protective hand over her womb, checking for that tiny flicker of life inside, and grit her teeth. She raised the scythe.

“I am not your queen yet,” she began, but one shade was impatient. It crashed into her – or tried.

She raised the scythe and slit it in half. Cutting a soul was different than a mortal. When she killed the mortals during her act of wrath, she felt them die. It was like a sad little flutter of wings passing through her. But now, killing a soul, it was like stepping into mud. It stuck to her feet. It was dead, but it was hers. She felt its power, whatever tiny bit it had, become hers.

“But come with me,” she told the black mass of shades now keeping a fitful distance. “Help me find your king, or I will find another use for you.”

Some shades fled into the trees. Others stayed. She couldn’t see them well, except that there were more than a few. They clung to each other like a school of fish, afraid of a bigger predator.

Satisfied for now, she swung the scythe at the security grid in front of the door. Sirens blared.

But the door opened.

\----

And so it went. Level by level, the mass of shades and the souls of murderers collected around her like a cloud. She couldn’t stop shaking from the plummeting temperatures the lower she hurried, but it didn’t matter.

It was taking too long. All of it. She tried to focus her breathing, tried to keep from tearing through the floors in a mad rage because Tartarus was too big. She might pass Hades in her hurry. She had to just keep moving down. Kronos would be at the bottom. She was sure of it.

It wasn’t until Level 27 did she find a sign.

“GODS – rapists, uncontrolled mass murders of mortals, and animal abusers”

Apollo.

She shivered for a new reason now. Artemis wanted to free her brother. This was where Hades put him after he had plead guilty in front of Olympus for what he did to her and dozens of others. After the court case, Hades had snuck her in to see Apollo to – ideally, according to Hades – torture him. But she hadn’t. She had simply rendered Apollo infertile. For a time. She planned, on his release from Tartarus in another millennia, to consider undoing the curse. It depended on his attitude. And how she felt by then.

She stared at the word “rapists.”

Artemis had dragged Hades here. She was sure of it.

“Show me,” she told the shades trailing her, gesturing for them to take her to him.

One by one, the shadows led her down narrow halls. The ceiling towered into the darkness above, ending somewhere that she couldn’t see. But every few feet, on either side, were crystal tombs. They glowed a dull gray and were full of too many gods who had done too many horrible things.

She didn’t know their ancient names, glancing at the brass nameplates nailed into their proverbial coffins. The temperature lowered further, and she stopped at a corner. She heard arguing.

“…You did this to him.” Artemis. She sounded cross, somewhere between pleading and angry. “You agreed to let him out. Now let him out.”

A long pause. Hades was thinking, weighing.

“I did not hear what Persephone had to say about this god,” Hades said softly, but firmly. “On your return to her, tell her that she has my permission to set Apollo free. If she wishes. But I can’t do that. You see where we are.”

“We stand in a hall of rapists,” Artemis said. “And somehow you aren’t on display with the rest of them. You need to make this right before I put you back where you belong.”

Persephone gripped the scythe, meeting the eyes of one encased god across from her. The chilling attention through the crystal made her stomach roll.

A sharp snap cracked the frozen air. Hades’ choking made her swing around the corner, scythe raised. She saw Hades on his knees in front of Apollo’s tomb, the rope around his neck strangling him. Artemis didn’t turn fast enough.

The curved blade cut … through her.

Artemis dissolved into smoke. The blade kept swinging until it sank into Apollo’s coffin. Persephone gasped at the sound of cracking and looked up.

It was empty.

Apollo was already set free.

“What is this?” Heart racing, she looked back and saw Hades wasn’t there either. She raised her attention to the shades as they raked up and down the walls around her. “You’re literally _showing_ me,” she realized.

The shades were showing her what already happened. When she pulled the scythe free, the effort of which had her panting, the shades set the scene again. They replayed what she missed, what she hadn’t gotten there fast enough to stop.

Hades was choking on the floor in front of her, blue skin darkening to the color of disturbed seas. Persephone knelt and tried to cup his face, but he wasn’t really there. He went through whatever this had been alone.

Another _snap_ made her jump.

The ropes eased enough to let him breathe. He tilted his head to look at Artemis.

“I don’t remember anything,” Hades said. His voice was hoarse, abused. It sounded painful. Persephone wondered how many times Artemis had choked him like this. The blood weeping from her eyes grew heavier. “I don’t trust myself to set someone free from this place. I will put myself here, like I am now, but I can’t release someone. Please understand that.”

Persephone wanted to kiss him. Even with his mind twisted by Artemis and the Lethe River, he was protecting her. And he didn’t even know it.

Or, at least, he was trying so hard to protect her.

Artemis hit the end of her patience though. She pulled something from beneath her jacket. Persephone caught the faint glint of a dark blue blade before Artemis sank it into Hades’ back. He cried out, shoulders curling in from the pain. Persephone tried to brace him, tried to pull the knife away, but her frantic hands just went through them. They weren’t there. Not anymore.

Artemis jerked the Kronos knife free. It came away dripping with his ichor.

“No,” Hades told her.

She didn’t listen. She turned to the tomb and pressed the knife against the crystal. After a moment of nothing happening, she grabbed Hades and put the blade through one of his hands. She moved faster than he could react, faster than he could stop. Persephone screamed at Artemis, put herself between them, but it didn’t matter. It was like trying to defend smoke. She couldn’t change the past.

Artemis pulled on Hades, forcing him to his feet. He tripped forward and his wounded hand fell onto the crystal tomb. The horror on his face was all Persephone saw before the blinding blue flash.

She blinked against the light, trembling, thorny vines sprouting from the veins in her wrists. When she raised her head, the tomb was open. Apollo stepped out.

Seeing him again, even like this when he wasn’t really in front of her, stirred her panic. A pain passed through her bones as she tensed up, as if they were splintering. She breathed, centering herself on the solidness of the concrete beneath her feet, and glanced up at Hades behind her. Even if he wasn’t truly there, a wave of safety fell over her and she relaxed.

“You did it,” Apollo said, mystified, and pulled Artemis in for a hug. She held on tight to him, burying her face into his chest. Apollo was looking at Hades though, a brow quirked and a smile on those heinous lips as if he saw something to laugh at. He let Artemis go to appraise Hades, eyeing the wounds, the ropes, the confused distrust shadowing his face.

“What did you do to the fearsome Unseen One?” Apollo asked, stepping closer to Hades. Persephone stayed in front of him, like it mattered.

“I told him the truth,” Artemis said. “The Lethe River is helping.”

Apollo whistled and tugged at the rope around Hades’ neck. Hades squared his shoulders, glaring at him. Persephone might be biased, but Hades still looked like he could kill Apollo even if he was beaten and tied up. Though he remembered nothing, something about Apollo didn’t sit right with him. That much was obvious.

“Isn’t this what some mortals call ‘karma,’?” Apollo asked Hades, who tilted his head, not sure what he meant. Apollo guffawed at his expression, but the amusement didn’t last long. To Persephone’s horror, Apollo pushed Hades up against the wall and a hand gripped his face to the side. Apollo breathed against his ear and smiled. “How does it feel to be helpless?”

“Stop it!” Persephone was shaking so hard her teeth chattered.

Of course no one heard her.

Apollo shoved Hades around, pressing his face against the wall.

“Is this what you did to her?” Apollo asked and clenched Hades’ belt with one hand. Hades elbowed Apollo in the ribs, making him roar. Apollo’s eyes glowed yellow and he grabbed Hades’ pants with both hands, jerking on them.

“What are you doing?” Artemis screamed.

Apollo stopped. But didn’t let Hades go.

“I just want to teach him a lesson,” Apollo said. “I want to show him what it feels like….” Apollo looked at Artemis, eyes wide and hurt. “He needs to understand what he did was wrong.”

“I’ve already seen to it,” Artemis said and shuffled from foot to foot, uncomfortable. Apollo’s brows lifted and he let Hades go.

“Who?” Apollo asked.

“There was already someone who wanted…,” Artemis waved a hand at Hades, who was facing both of them again, furious and listening intently, trying to fill in the blanks. “Her name was Minthe.”

“Was?” Apollo asked, then made a face. “And ‘she’? That hardly counts.”

Disgust descended on Artemis. She looked Apollo up and down, shaking her head.

“You sound like Zeus,” she said. “Rape is rape, brother. You know that. It doesn’t fucking matter if it is done by a man or woman.”

Apollo was nodding repeatedly, hands out to assuage her.

“I’m sorry,” Apollo said. “I know. You’re right. I just want him to suffer for what he’s done to Perse.”

Artemis studied him, then gave one nod. She relaxed a bit.

“There’s just one last thing to do,” she said. “Are you ready?”

Apollo grinned. “I’ll lead the way,” he said, stepping past her down the hallway.

Artemis pointed for Hades to follow, but he paused.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked softly. “He seems like he could hurt you.”

Artemis pressed the Kronos knife to his throat, though she seemed less convinced. Hades didn’t need more urging and stepped ahead of her, following Apollo deeper into Tartarus.

They disappeared into smoke. Persephone stared down the hall where they had gone, tears mixing with blood. Her fingers were shaking so hard that the scythe had tremors up through the blade. She needed to get to Hades now, before Apollo decided he wanted to ride his power trip further and hurt Hades himself ... by doing gods knew what.

Persephone tried not to imagine Apollo … it wouldn’t happen. Hades would fight back. He was already starting to fight back when Artemis stepped in.

Either way, they were still headed to Kronos’ cell. She spotted a pink root from her tree that had broken through the floor. It glowed, pulsing, trying to tell her something. She placed a hand on it and saw through bleeding eyes that the root had grown into the hallway outside of Kronos’ cell, deep underground. Or, at least, she assumed it was his cell by the giant ornate doors. Detailed relief carvings adorned the dark stone around it, depicting titans, the six traitors, and the three kings that finally defeated their father.

She dug her claws into the root, watching red sap weep from the pulsating pink and white bark. The root thickened, crumbling the floor even further. She floated downward, following the root into the deepest trenches of the Underworld prison.

 _Hold on_ , she wanted to tell Hades, to press into his mind if that was even possible. _You will be safe again soon._

_We both will._


	29. Fighting for Hades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is the one that's been stuck in my head for too long. I'm excited to share it with you!
> 
> In the meantime, remember the tags and story warnings! There is gore here.

Descending into the bowels of Tower 4 was like falling headfirst into the beginning of time itself. As Persephone followed the tree root down, the prison levels grew darker, some louder, some more sulfurous. But it all got colder.

The air became brittle. She could hear even the farthest whispers from the oldest, most isolated of souls. Most spoke to themselves, muttering about age-old arguments with people long dead and not bound to an eternity in Tartarus. But some prayed, tokens of worship lost to the deaf walls of the prison.

And still her small following of shades stuck close. She wondered if the souls were simply entertained by what was happening, or if some genuinely wanted to help.

But then one swiped at her back, disrupting her hair and knocking green leaves from her wings. She swung the scythe and the shade screamed as it fled.

They were entertained then. And looking for an opening to attack.

It was not comforting.

Even so, when the shades bristled, she could tell they had something they wanted to say.

About the king, one hissed in her ear, breathy and stale.

“Show me,” she said, her voice falling flat on the pressing darkness which was cut only by the pulsing, pink root. She clung to it as the shadows boiled around her, shifting to show her the place she was in a hurry to reach.

Hades wasn’t there.

A different kind of chill swept through her when all she saw was Artemis standing before the cell doors, tiny as she weighed a large brass key in her hands.

Why wasn’t Hades with her?

And where was Apollo?

Artemis checked over her shoulder down the long, empty hall behind her. The only light came from the small pink roots webbed along the walls carved with images from the Titan War. Persephone wished Artemis would look at those images, remember what she was taught, and walk away from that door once and for all. But instead, Artemis hefted the key up and notched it into the keyhole above her head.

Even though Persephone knew only one of the three kings could turn the key, seeing it ready to go made her want to be sick. If only Artemis knew the nightmares Hades suffered from, the ones that left him sweating and screaming. If only she saw the vulnerable way he would look at Persephone after she reminded him that he was safe – like he wouldn’t believe it until she tucked him against her neck and played with his hair, holding him until the trembling stilled.

And where was Hades? She didn’t want him there, but not seeing him terrified her.

“Apollo, we don’t have time for this,” Artemis called, hesitant, voice wavering. She looked worried… She looked disturbed.

A small part of Persephone hoped she would wake up and see her brother for the monster that he was. She just didn’t want it to be at Hades’ expense. 

When no answer came to her urging for Apollo to hurry, Artemis put her back to the cell doors. That only worsened Persephone’s dread. She felt like no one should be that close to the doors, let alone turn their back on them. It felt like the ocean. You could never trust it.

“Apollo!” Artemis was sharper now. “What are you doing?”

The image cut out. Persephone’s breath hitched as shadows mixed with the pink light from the root she followed down, down, down….

The shades scattered. She heard one of them screaming as they fled back up through the destroyed floors and ceilings. Looking down, she saw the root deposited her at a winding set of stairs. There weren’t many. She could see beneath them a door, which was already open.

This must be it.

Gripping the scythe, she floated down the stairs as quickly as she could. She held her breath. The Dread Queen ruled her body, crimson pulsing in her eyes, red vines tangled in her hair and cutting at her cheeks.

“It’s almost funny how you made her think she loves you.”

Apollo’s voice rang out from near the open door. Persephone paused, bracing for what she might find. She felt Hades close by, felt the warmth of his soul. Her hands ached to have him in them again, safe, protected.

“It’s funny because no one actually loves you,” Apollo said. “The mortals despise you. They chase you out of their fields if they see you pass too close. No one that’s ever ‘dated’ you has wanted to be seen in public with you. And … do you have friends? And everyone knows that your family tolerates you. All because you are Kronos. I mean, you sound like him. You look like him. You act like him.”

The sound of fist hitting flesh was muted, but the Dread Queen raised the scythe.

“Those ropes are choking you and you think you can fight back?” Apollo laughed, though sounded strained like whatever he was doing took effort. “And Artemis gave me this syringe. Not sure what the drug is, but it’s to keep ‘the animal calm.’ Her words.”

Persephone couldn’t stop from remembering Hades drugged and helpless in the basement, on that bed…. 

The Dread Queen raged.

Persephone watched through the crimson veil over her vision as she emerged through the doorway, scythe lifted above her head. Apollo had Hades pinned on the floor, hand wrapped in the ropes that choked him. Hades had his own fists in Apollo’s shirt, trying to shove him off. By Apollo’s split lip, it looked like Hades had landed a few hits of his own.

Hades bent on the floor to look at Persephone and she saw the fresh ichor dripping from his mouth and around his face where Apollo’s fists had landed. Bruises already bloomed beneath his eyes, which were drifting shut. She saw a syringe sticking out of his neck above the rope.

It was empty.

Apollo looked at her just long enough to register that she was there to rip him apart.

The scythe plunged into Apollo’s chest. The satisfying spray of his ichor made her smile, teeth bared. She yanked the blade free, enjoying the shock in his widened eyes and opened mouth. The hall shook, dust dropping from the faraway ceiling, as black roots erupted from below. They gripped Apollo’s arms, hurling him backwards.

Except he took Hades with him.

She screamed.

Apollo’s hand was still wrapped in Hades’ ropes. But that hand jerked free when the roots slammed Apollo into the wall at the end of the hall. Hades fell limp to the floor, unconscious.

Persephone slid next to him, cradling his head. Ichor-clumped hair stuck to her fingers, white lashes stark against the new bruises haloing his eyes. She touched his face as tenderly as possible, fingertips shaking. His soft lips were ripped from Apollo’s hands, dark from abuse. Tears dripping down her face felt like more than grief at seeing him like this, after everything that he’d already been through. The tears weighed at her, carrying the loud, thrashing self-hate that said all she could do was fail him.

She buried her face in his neck, breathing in smoke, sweat, ichor … and something that didn’t belong. It smelled like leather. It smelled like Apollo.

Heat exploded in the hall. It burned Persephone, knocking her to the side. Away from Hades. She rolled and hit the wall. When she managed to blink the white from her vision, she saw a relief carving overhead. The detail was painstaking. Pink roots hugged the outline of one of the three kings … her king.

“You have to let him go,” Apollo called to her, his boots heavy on the polished floor. “What you think you feel for him isn’t real. He got into your head.”

Persephone stood, leaning on the wall beneath the carving of Hades. She faced Apollo, Dread Queen giving a rabid howl in her head. Apollo’s eyes were smeared gold, a sunlit haze rippling around him as he stalked closer. She floated up, vines coiling in the air between them. It made him pause.

“You don’t want to do this,” he said and tapped an index finger to his temple. “Remember, I can see the future. Do you want to see what you and I are meant to be?”

Persephone looked at Hades, still unconscious, laying in a mess of ichor. Alone.

“No,” she told Apollo.

The Dread Queen lunged. Vines and beams of sunlight crashed together. Her scythe sank into his shoulder and then she just saw a cloud of gold and pink. It swelled around her, images flinging past. Snippets of conversation caught in her ears, but never long enough to decipher to words. Thousands, millions of lives, pathways they could go down. Their colliding powers must have thrown what he saw into her mind, even for an instant.

For half a moment, she saw what he must have referred to – their supposed future. She caught herself crying in a living room chair in a bright room, mascara smeared down her cheeks. But it wasn’t the future she wanted, moving her focus on until she found the forgiving shadows of the Underworld and the gentle blue of her king.

The sound of Hades laughing drew her further into that vision, walking past walls of smeared color as it shifted to different possibilities. She saw herself leaning in the doorway of a room … a child’s room. Fairy lights were strung along the walls, twinkling yellow and white. The Persephone in this future was smiling along with Hades, watching fondly as he sat on the floor with a little girl who looked … a lot like her.

“Daddy, put this on,” the toddler chirped, standing on wobbly legs to plant a crown on his head made of paper flowers twined together in an uneven circle. From the looks of it, the little one had drawn the flowers in blue and green crayon. By how carefully they were cut out and tied together, she assumed Hades finished the project.

Hades straightened the paper flowers that messed up his hair, giving the girl a dorky grin full of dimples. He put a hand on her head, smoothing her wine-colored locks. As his fingers left the wild strands, a diamond tiara remained. The child must have felt the slight weight because she touched it and let out a delighted giggle. 

“Give one to Mama!” she cried out and pointed at Persephone.

Hades turned and as he did, she saw bright scars peek out from under his grey sweater. She frowned at them, realizing they were from the whips. But then he was reaching a hand to the Persephone of this future, his smile warm and smooth. She watched, full of jealousy, as this future self took hold of his hand to join them on the floor.

But then the vision darkened, twitching back to the chilly undertones of Tartarus. Persephone gasped as she returned to the present. Apollo gaped at her, vines trapping his arms and legs, her scythe still deep in his shoulder.

“You saw what Hades and I have,” Persephone realized. “You’ve seen it this whole time.”

Apollo’s eyes glinted and he grit his teeth, a snarky laugh chipped and jagged as it left him.

“You wanted to rob us of that,” she said. “Why?”

Apollo studied her and pulled against the vines. When he couldn’t immediately free himself, he relented. For the moment.

“Because he doesn’t deserve it,” Apollo said. “And I do.”

“And what about me?” she asked.

“I don’t care if you cry,” he whispered. “Your being happy or not doesn’t change what you can do for me.”

The Dread Queen heaved the scythe from his shoulder. His cry of pain made her gleeful. Vines climbed across him and thorns sliced as they spread.

“No,” he begged, struggling again. It was the only word he could say before red thorns garroted his throat. The thorns gored his neck open, slicing vocal chords. She watched ichor leap out at her, smiling at his horrified stare. The vines kept crawling, kept slicing, until black branches held an arm a few yards away. Apollo tried to scream, but just managed to put bubbles in the ichor spilling out of his throat. She turned and saw another arm tangled in some brambles, and then a leg. 

She kept turning, looking for Hades, relieved that Apollo was disassembled once and for all… At least until each of his parts had their own coffin in Tartarus.

But Hades was gone.

She stared at the ichor left behind, then spun to look down the hallway to Kronos’ doors.

“Are you awake enough to understand what’s going on?” Artemis asked him, her voice echoing across the stone. She had Hades in her hands. He was uneasy on his feet, hair hanging messily in his face as he leaned against the doors beside the key she had gotten ready. 

“Are y-you … s-su-sure?” Hades’ stutter was heavy again, his words slow as he fought whatever drug Apollo injected into his system. “D-do I n-need to g-go b-back?”

“I'm a lot of things,” Artemis said, taking his hands and making him grip the key. “But I’m not wrong about you.”

Artemis turned his hands.

The lock rolled free with a deep, strumming thud.


	30. Crystal walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it has been uncharacteristically long since I've posted a new chapter. I apologize for the wait. Have just been running the rat race in keeping up with deadlines and life. A bunch of deadlines are behind me now so writing on this fun piece shouldn't be delayed anymore. Of course, comments may always help inspire! I love an audience :)
> 
> Not sure I did justice to this chapter or not. It is the one I've been obsessed with since starting this fanfic. I am just moved by the ending. Have been drawing panels to go with it but will upload them all to a future chapter.
> 
> Now, the italicized "dialog" at the end of this is pulled from the poem "Find Me" by Forest Blakk. You can hear him read it on youtube as well. There is a lyric video that goes with him reading the piece that is just stunning. I did not include the entire poem here, so please go listen to it. It is best heard, in my opinion. I love poetry (and I'm sure I'm not alone!) and always include verses in my work from poems both old and new. Anyway, "Find me" by Blakk brought us all to this chapter (aside from Smythe's own beautiful work!). Enjoy! Or tell me you hate it. Either way, always love your comments!

Persephone’s heart squeezed as she watched Hades try pulling away from the lock, shaking his head. The drugs in his system all but knocked his legs out from under him but Artemis was not letting him go. She kept his hands on the key.

It was like an exhale. Something pushed on the doors from the other side, an icy gust seeping out from every tiny crack. It must have brought some clarity to Hades because he gripped the key, muscles bunched, and tried locking the doors again.

“Are you ready to see your father?” Artemis shoved him back. His legs gave out and he hit his head on the polished stone floor. The crack had Persephone running.

“Stop it!” Persephone shouted.

In a flicker of light, Artemis held her bow and notched an arrow. She pointed it at her as a warning. Persephone halted and took a steadying breath. It smelled different in the hall. Less like smoke and ice. More stale and clammy … almost digestive. It left a sooty layer on the back of Persephone’s throat, clinging like bile. Hades tried to get up but his arms folded under him and he dropped again. He was too vulnerable for this. Facing his father, even being this close to him … Persephone’s claws grew.

“Didn’t you hear what your brother said?” Persephone’s voice was dry and rough from the smell sagging through the hall.

“I heard him trying to reason with you,” Artemis shouted down the length of the corridor, her anger echoing. “But then I stopped listening because Hades is too far in your head.”

“No.” Persephone was shaking, fists clenched around the scythe still dripping Apollo’s ichor.

“You ripped my brother apart,” Artemis cried out to her. “Hades manipulated you.” She tilted her head at Hades who was staring at the doors, motionless, alert.

Persephone marched forward, done trying to talk her down. She knew Artemis would never shoot her.

But Artemis pulled the bow taut and turned it on Hades. The arrow didn’t have far to go before sinking into his side. His head tipped back, and he cried out. It was more than the Dread Queen could stand.

The hall rumbled. Stone creaked as it twisted. Soil filtered from the high ceiling, dark and glittering in diamond dust. Artemis finally looked scared.

“Hades,” Persephone called, her voice gentle even as the hall trembled harder. Black roots burst from the polished stone around her. As they coiled, bark crackled and skipped on the rock floor. Bright pink wood shone on the roots beneath the broken pieces. They coiled along the floor toward him, eager as they carefully wrapped around his torso. He lifted an arm to look at them, the spell holding his attention on the cell doors broken. The arrow in his side jostled and he winced. She winced with him.

“I’ve got you,” Persephone whispered.

Artemis pulled out a long knife from her belt and reached for one of the handles on cell doors. She flung it open. A sucking gust erupted and ripped the other door off its hinges. The metal groaned and screamed before it snapped and flung into the darkness. Artemis ducked as the door she opened flipped closed and twisted.

The door hinges snapped. The towering steel folded in half as it fell backwards into the cell.

Persephone smelled stomach acid. It rank of the apocalypse.

She shivered but the Dread Queen’s claws stretched. She called the roots to her that held Hades in place.

Artemis moved fast though. She fell next to him, lifted the long blade and hacked through the roots. Pink wood flew, glowing and fiery.

“Stop it!” Persephone moved forward again, leaning back against the twisting gusts trying to suck everything into the cell with Kronos.

But as soon as Artemis cut through the last of the roots, the wind gripped Hades and sucked him into the shadows.

The gale took Artemis too.

The Dread Queen reached out for Hades, throwing vines into the darkness. She felt them grip one of his wrists and a jolt of his fear reverberated through the vine. The growth crept along his forearm, gripping tighter as the sucking force pulled on him. Persephone heard Artemis screaming, but couldn’t see her.

“A i d o n e u s.”

Kronos called for Hades.

The Dread Queen called the vines to bring Hades out of the cell. She fought against the force of Kronos’ power drawing on them, pulling them into the void.

Then she saw Hades. He was dragged forward enough that the light in the hall fell on his body. His jaw was clenched as he looked back at Persephone, one of his arms encased in vines sprouting with blue flowers. His hair hung in his face, but there was something wrong. A mist was blowing off his skin and getting sucked into the darkness behind him. The fog was grey, watery, opaque. She could almost smell it, the heaviness of a river….

It was the power from the Lethe.

It was being sucked out of him by Kronos.

“Gods,” she breathed and fought the tears of panic. By the deepening concern on his stern mouth, the lines between his sharpening eyes, he was shaking off the blurriness. He was remembering.

“No,” she sobbed. It was too fast. It was happening too damn fast. It was going to hurt him.

Persephone ran. She fell into the vacuum pulling on her. She saw Hades shaking his head at her, a grief-stricken determination just before blue and pink crystals erupted through the stone floor. The crystals razored through the vines preventing him from being sucked into the cell.

“What are you doing?” Persephone screamed, but she knew. Gods, she loved and hated him for it.

He was going after Artemis. Because he was the king. And Kronos was his responsibility, and he didn’t believe anyone deserved to suffer through what happened to him.

She reached the cell doors just as he flew backwards … and it wasn’t dark from where she now stood. A crimson glow illuminated the cell, or enough of it for her to see the horror.

Kronos sat in a pit. Only his skeletal head could be seen from this distance and height. But his skull was blackened, long tendrils of star-scattered hair floated around his emaciated face. Red glowing eyes brightened at the sight of her clinging to the doorframe and his laugh rattled her molars. She felt that laugh deep in her stomach, making her sick. The stench of the end of the world was stronger here, clinging to her insides like oil.

Tiny pebbles rolled through the black soot toward the pit, toward Kronos. Artemis had dug her feet in halfway to the pit, nails scratching stone. Tears ripped off her face in the gust toward the titan. Her mouth was open, but if she screamed Persephone couldn’t hear it anymore. Even the sound was stolen by Kronos.

Hades slid toward Artemis, his god wrath lifting his hair off his head in beautiful ivory curls. His skin pulsated with colors of the night sky, stars strewn in clusters where his scars split his perfect skin. His pupils shown white, the lines of his muscular body glittering as he fought for some control against the pull of his father.

The fog of the Lethe still rippled out of his skin, sucked from him like Kronos wanted to take his very soul.

“Hades!” Persephone screamed. She wanted to tell him to leave Artemis, that she deserved this, that she caused this, but knew he wouldn’t listen.

He reached Artemis then, grabbing her outstretched hand.

“Aidoneus,” Kronos called, loud, commanding, somehow even degrading. “Why are you trying to save that tiny goddess? Let me have her.”

Hades glowed blue and ivory, muscles bunching as he threw Artemis to the cell doors. She almost made it, but the gust was too strong. Persephone, cursing every second, grabbed her.

“Thank you,” Artemis breathed.

Persephone shoved her out of the cell, hating that she was saved at all. Artemis stepped behind the wall and Persephone turned back to find Hades, to get him out of there now. He was clinging to the dirt like Artemis had been, his god wrath flickering away.

“You are weak like your mother,” Kronos said. “How long will I get to have you? Another thirteen years?”

Persephone stepped into the cell. Her feet began to slip on the stone as the gust yanked harder on her. Hades lost his god wrath, weakened as more of the power of the Lethe left him. He was sweating, shaking, as he clutched to the dirt while one his stomach. He looked up at Persephone as she tried to navigate her way to him now. His hair whipped around his head as he watched her, his gaze soft and loving.

But then he grit his teeth and lifted a hand.

Something hard circled her feet.

Persephone looked down. Diamond encased her feet and legs, preventing her from moving any closer or from being sucked into Kronos’ hands.

“No, no,” she breathed.

The diamond shifted, ripping through the dirt and stone of the cell floor, taking her back to the entrance. She tried to pull free, vines flying around her and toward Hades. If she could just pick him up, take him out of there, they would be together, they would be free of Kronos and deal with foolish Artemis together.

But the diamond was unmoving. It pulled her back out of the cell, past the doorframe, into the hall. Artemis watched her, shaken and ashen, from her place at the wall.

A wave of crystal rose in front of Persephone then, blocking off the cell’s entrance.

“No!” she screamed and the diamond around her legs shattered. She threw herself at the crystal blocking her way back inside, throwing fists against it. It was thin enough that she could see through it, see Hades being picked up by Kronos’ skeletal fingers. Hades was limp as he was lifted by his neck between two claws, all but exhausted.

She saw him lift one hand toward her. The crystal between them thickened, blurring him until all she saw was white stone as he sealed himself in.

The wind stopped abruptly.

The smell of the end of the world cut off.

And a hollowness in her stomach ate her alive.

An angry sob ripped its way from her throat. She screamed at the slabs of diamond in front of her, shaking with horror at what Kronos might be doing to Hades. They were alone together.

She pressed her forehead against the crystal, begging Gaia or any god that might care for a way to get inside.

But then she felt him. She felt Hades in her mind, a gentle friend that almost made her feel better just by his proximity. She knew if she opened her eyes she wouldn’t see him. And by how thin the connection was, she knew it wouldn’t last.

“ _Hades_ ,” she breathed.

*“… _I was once told that walking through_

_A doorway could cause someone to_ _forget_

_Even the most_ _precious memories they had._ ”

The voice in her head was drifting. It was thin and fragile. She had to concentrate to hear him.

“ _Memories of good_

_Memories of_ _bad_

_Memories of_ _love and of loss … all_ _tucked away neatly_

_Stored like the_ _worn out_ _blankets that were kept to dress the_ _rainy days_

_And bad habits that happen from_ _time to time._ ”

Tears pooled behind her closed eyes, spilling out and jumping off her trembling lips. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

“ _I was once told that the_ _love_ _I felt beating inside my chest_

_Was nothing more than my mind_ _playing_ _an unfair trick on my_ _heart...._

_To think_

_That someone could actually believe that the swelling tides of my heart_

_Were no more than an anxious highway of ins and outs_

_Anchoring my imagination to the castles I’ve been building in the sky…_

_Well, maybe ‘_ _they_ _’ are the crazy ones._ ”

Persephone let out a small laugh at his attempt at humor. She could taste his fear though, his resignment to whatever Kronos was about to do. Her teeth chattered as she shook, hating Artemis, hating Kronos, hating everyone who ever tried to hurt Hades. They didn’t understand him. They didn’t know him.

“ _Then again I have been known to_ _misplace_ _my_ _hope_ _in the way things fall_

_And if I had to confess, there stands a_ _greater_

_Chance that I have all but_ _lost_ _my mind in here_

_So I suppose it’s_ _better_ _off this_ _way_ _._ ”

Persephone shook her head, hair sticking to the trails of tears on her cheeks and mouth.

“ _To be_ _clear_

_I’ve seen a million faces_

_I’ve seen a million different faces_

_Each one mirroring that of_ _your_ _own_

_And still, none of them felt like_ _home_ _to_ _me_

_None of them have felt like_ _you_ _…_

_I can_ _remember_ _what it felt like to hold you_

_I can_ _remember_ _what it was like to stare blindly_

_Into your eyes for what felt like an eternity_

_How could I forget that?_

_I could never forget that_

_I could never forget you.”_

So he did remember. Kronos did rip the Lethe from his blood. Persephone took some comfort that Hades wasn’t unconscious from the shock. At least, not yet. She could hear his voice or his consciousness wavering though, fading in and out in volume. She wanted to reach out and cling to it, to hold it in place and bring it closer so he could finally be safe.

“ _I_ _remember_ _now…._

_And beyond those closed_ _doors_

_I will_ _find_ _you_ _again_

_My_ _love_

_I will find_ _you again_ _…._

_I will f_ _i_ _n_ _d_ _y_ _o_ _u_ _._ ”*

Persephone waited for more. She pressed her head closer to the cool diamond in front of her.

Silence.

Nothing but silence.

And her jagged breathing.

“Hades,” she begged, puffing hair away from her face as she leaned back to look at the wall in front of her. She pushed on the diamond and then slammed her palms against it. “Hades!”

* _"Italicized dialog from the poem "Find Me" by Forest Blakk_

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Faceless One](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29381547) by [EldritchWhore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EldritchWhore/pseuds/EldritchWhore)




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